Big Girls Don't Cry
by Hell's-FunnyHome
Summary: Sequel to "Murdoc's Victory"–Here she is again, in the clammy grasp that was Murdoc's hand… But what was a girl to do? Vicky's too preoccupied with chasing after her nephew to care about anything else anyway. Wait, a child? On Plastic Beach? What's going on! How's Murdoc going to handle being around…children… Well, doesn't matter anyway. Vicky just wants to get off this island!
1. Let Yourself Go

**Hey y'all! So, I started writing this delicious piece of work once again. I'm very excited for this, I hope everyone else is too! Here is the much promised sequel. With any luck, you'll like this one as much as its' predecessor, I know I'm much more happy with what I have planned out. But I won't bore you much longer, I just want to say that there's going to be a little bit of spanish thrown in here and there. I'll try to translate everything before each chapter, though it shouldn't intervene with the story if you don't know what it means.**

_**Titi- Vlad's nickname for Vicky. Pronounced tee-tee (or tea-tea), short for tía, meaning aunt in Spanish.**_

* * *

Her doorbell rang loudly, waking Vicky from a deep slumber. She moaned into the pillow, not quite ready to let go of her bed's warm embrace when the loud ringing came again.

"I'm coming!" She yawned, extending her arm to grab onto the plain black shirt she had taken off last night; it was getting warmer in Chicago by the second. Her legs sauntered lazily across her floor and to the kitchen, a drowsy smile appearing as she looked through the window on the door to see her cousin Elizabeth. Upon opening the door, however, she was tackled by a pair of short stubby arms demanding to be picked up.

"Titi!"

Her smile grew tenfold, extremely happy to see the child and hugged him tightly, before sending him off to play and greet her cousin.

"Hey you." Lizzie grinned, hugging Vicky.

Yawning, the response came out as a still sleepy, "what's up? Coffee?"

"Actually, we're here to invite you to the zoo with me and Vladimir, isn't that right Vlad?"

The little child came running back from the piano and exclaimed excitedly, "yeah! Let's go Titi! I wanna see the lions and the tigers!"

"And the bears? Oh my!" Vicky laughed, agreeing as soon as he latched on to her leg once again.

"And you have to ride the dinosaur slide with me!"

"Yes, yes!" Vicky laughed, trying to pry him off of her. She had to agree to that and more before he let her go to grab a cookie from her pantry. Knowing well where his coloring supplies were, Vladimir made quick to use them when Vicky left to change into her day clothes. It took only a moment for Vicky to return to her small kitchen, seeing Lizzie leaning over the counter and watching Vlad color, and eat. "I'm ready!"

* * *

The car ride over to the zoo was filled with the soothing sounds of the summer breeze, interrupted only by the quick Latin sounds playing softly on the radio.

"How's life?" asked Lizzy, looking to her right at Vicky, who sat quietly staring out of the window.

"Can't complain. Started that yoga class you were telling me about, feels good. Work's alright. How bout you?" Vicky spoke evenly, only glancing briefly at her older cousin.

"Seems like a fuckin' party compared to what you described," laughed the hispanic at the wheel.

"Shut up." Vicky grinned, smiling brightly and taking a drink out of her plastic bottle.

The silence filled the car again, scratching of a pencil on a piece of paper caught Vicky's attention and she turned to watch her nephew.

Lizzy noticed her cousin's gaze and smirked, knowing just how much the child meant her slightly younger relative. "Vladimir's starting preschool in the fall, aren't you Lalo?"

"Yeah! I already have my book bag! It's Batman…" Trailed the little boy in excitement all the way to the zoo.

* * *

Vicky looked at Vladimir as the child gazed at the lion cage. He was growing up so fast… That or her life really was starting to become a series of short occurrences. Who knows?

"You know it's gonna be a long summer. What're your plans?" Asked Elizabth, pulling Vicky out of her private thoughts.

"Not sure, maybe start playing at El Ñandu regularly or something." She shrugged.

"Ah, good, good… Actually I was meaning to ask you, especially now that I know you're not doing much…"

"Yeah?" Vicky asked suspiciously.

"Would you mind, maybe, staying with Vlad for a while?"

"How long're we talking about?" Vicky asked looking a little worried.

"a month…"

"month?"

"or two…" she added sheepishly

"Two months? Where the hell are you going for two months?!"

"They're sending Deshawn to Japan, Costa Rica, and Brazil…" Lizzy paused to look at her cousin, seeing a look of concern in Vicky's face. She felt bad but… "He loves you, you'll do fine…" Lizzie reassured. "Plus, don't you think it's time you started spending a little more time with the family? You barely speak to anyone anymore. It's baby steps!"

"Yeah… yeah… I just… I dunno. I like being able to call the shots on my own terms–" Vicky turned to look at the fake blonde. "–and you know how the family is, everyone dictates your life but you."

Lizzy pursed her lips to the side, looking at Vicky. "Well I think this'll do you good. Spending time with him, he's still so small, y'know. There's so much you can teach him."

"I know… I just don't think I'm ready to…" Vicky looked out to the playground where Vlad was playing alone. Sometimes it surprised Vicky how much the child could remind her of herself.

* * *

"C'mon V! It's not _that_ long and I haven't been away with just Deshawn in _so_ long!" Lizzie begged what seemed like the tenth time that week.

"It's not that I don't want to help you, or that I don't like the idea. I just don't think I could do…" Vicky stopped her hand from whipping the egg in the bowl she was currently holding. "Stay with him for so long. Just us?" Vicky slowly let her hand return to its' rotating rhythm.

"Hey." Lizzie called, earning Vicky's attention. "I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you were capable of doing it. Vlad adores you, and I know you love him." Lizzie smirked, knowing Vicky spoiled the child more than anyone.

"No, I know… It's just… What if I screw up? And if he gets sick? There's so much to caring for a child!" Vicky fretted, though in all honesty it was starting to get difficult to say no.

The idea of being with the little boy, just him and her, it was frighteningly delightful. If that even made sense. Actually, Vicky was starting to get a little excited, but if was her stupid fear of messing this up that was really holding her back…

"Pfft. You'll be fine." Lizzy waved her cousin's distress away. "Besides, it'll be good practice." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Practice?" Vicky raised her own.

"Yeah, for when you start popping out Jamie's bebes."

Vicky rolled her eyes and whipped her fork at Lizzy, successfully covering her cousin's face with egg.

"Ugh! You jerk!" She laughed.

"Yeah, whatever, you deserved it." Vicky chuckled, holding out a rag.

"Oh please," Lizzie took the scrap of cloth being handed to her. "You know you want to bone." Lizzie looked up noticing Vicky's suddenly red face. She knew that look. Guilty. Lizzie went slack jawed. "You did?!"

"What?" Vicky tried to hide her face. "C'mon! It was _one_ time!"

"Doesn't matter. You had sex." Lizzie leaned further on the counter, waiting as Vicky poured her eggs on the sizzling pan.

Feeling herself being watched, Vicky glanced back only to find Lizzie looking at her innocently. Yeah right.

"What? Weirdo…"

"C'mon, you know what. Dish!"

"There's nothing to tell." Vicky defended.

"Yeah, uh-huh. Please, if he got you in bed he had to be good."

"It has nothing to do with that–which doesn't make sense, by the way. We hung out, smoked up, and ended up fucking. Nothing to tell." Vicky frowned, pushing her egg around to prevent sticking.

"Way'ta kill the mood." Lizzie slumped and sat back. "You gonna see him again?"

"Well yeah, I have to. We work together." Vicky flipped her egg, sprinkling salt onto the cooked side.

"Not what I meant." Lizzie added with a sing-song tone.

"Ok fine." Vicky pursed her lip. "Fuckin' nosy 'n' shit…" She mumled, turning off her stove and placing the omelette on a plate.

"You love me." Lizzie smiled.

"Shut up!" Vicky snapped, smiling. "We're not gonna 'see' each other, per say. But we agreed to hang out at Isaiah's party. And who knows…" Vicky cut into her egg. "And I'm not stupid, that's probably only going to lead to… uh… you know…"

"So it's a friends-with-benefits kind of thing?"

"I guess." Vicky muttered, her mouth full of egg.

Lizzie sighed. "Well, it's a start. And who knows, you might end up falling deeply in love." Her eyebrows batted annoyingly fast, making Vicky snort and laugh.

"Yeah. Sure." She rolled her eyes. "Moving on." Vicky licked her dry lips, and kept on eating, attempting to make it look as if this wasn't a hard decision she came to. "When do you want me to pick up Vlad?"

Lizzie gushed on the inside, knowing it would always turn out this way. "Friday? We're leaving Sunday, but I want to make sure we have everything ready."

"Yeah, sure." Vicky smiled, happy to have found a reason for her own overdue vacation.


	2. Vicky & Vladimir

_**Titi- Vlad's nickname for Vicky. Pronounced tee-tee (or tea-tea), short for tía, meaning aunt in Spanish.**_

**If you see Spanish, following immediately by English, then it's the translation of what was said. Don't worry, people don't usually repeat themselves, it's just a writing tactic for languages.**

* * *

Vicky's head snapped up, hearing the familiar sounds of a blade rotating at over 100 mph. The sound could be located right above her, but her sight was blinded by the powerful Chicago summer sun. Placing her hand above to shield her from the glowing orb, she was finally able to see the passing advertisement floating among the few white tufts of clouds.

"Titi Vicky!" Came the young voice of her nephew, who ran along the sand, jumping at its' heat. "Look!" He yelled excitedly, nearly tripping as he shoved his bucket of sand into Vicky's arms. Inside the pail was a common earth worm, swimming in the lake water.

"What is it?" Vicky asked teasingly. "Is it a monster?"

"No! It's a worm!" Vladimir corrected happily, staring at the wriggling creature that tried to burrow into the sand at the bottom of the plastic bucket. "He's messy, right Titi?"

"Yup. Super messy." Growing bored with the simple animal, Vicky asked the child to go play in the water while she went to get something to eat.

* * *

Making her way back from the car, her hands full of fruits and sandwiches, Vicky glanced to the place she had last seen Vladimir. Strange… He wasn't there. She furrowed her eyebrows, cupping her hands around her eyes to clarify her vision and help her find the little boy.

All too suddenly, Vicky's heart rate shot up and she dropped the contents in her arms. Her legs carried her quickly onto the sand, paying no mind to the burning sensation shooting up her soles.

"Vlad!" She rang out desperately.

Where was he?!

The cold water hit her calves, freezing her to the core for the briefest of seconds and, not having realized she was already in the lake, Vicky pushed past the scattered people, asking them mentally to help her.

"_¡Vladimir, bebe!_" she yelled out in Spanish, through habit.

A piece of floating wood hit her stomach and immediately the plank became Vladimir. He was only three for fuck's sake, where was he?! Tears sprung out of Vicky's deep brown eyes, trying to convince herself there was no way Vladimir could be in the water.

Her constant movement had clouded the lake, making it extremely difficult to see just what was in the beyond when she plunged into the depths of Lake Michigan. Blindingly, she reached out, hoping to find her lost child.

In what seemed like a miraculous moment, Vicky heard the indistinct voice of her nephew screaming what sounded like her name. She quickly arose from the water and strained her ears, trying to find where the voice was coming from. If possible, the adrenaline began pumping even harder at hearing the tiny cry until she was angrily rubbing the water off of her face. Was it the lake or her own tears? She wasn't quite sure; the water was just immensely irritating right now.

This was exactly the kind of thing she didn't want to happen, she though as her legs forced their way through the strenuous water and back onto the sandy shore. She told Lizzy that leaving Vladimir with her was a stupid idea. Vicky was just not meant to have children with her. Who leaves a three-year-old on the beach by themselves?

Her eyes continued to scan the immense beach when well-known little arms wrapped themselves around her legs. Without missing a beat, Vicky picked up the crying child into her arms, inspecting him over and over to make sure he was alright. "_¿Qué paso? _What happened?"

The boy calmed slowly regained his breath, hiccuping every so often, as he tried to speak with his aunt. "A-A seagull stole my wor-worm." He hiccuped. "I went to go ge-get him but then I went too far!" He cried into her arms.

Vicky felt a strange feeling at hearing his explanation. Her worry all of a sudden became anger; anger at the little boy for being so innocent, anger at her cousin for leaving her with so much responsibility, but mostly anger at herself for agreeing to take Vladimir and _thinking_ she was even remotely capable of caring for the child the way he needed to be cared for.

"What?!" She put Vladimir firmly on the ground. "Listen to me." She scolded, making sure he was looking her. "Never run off like that! Especially for a stupid bird! What were you thinking?! You could have gotten lost or, worse, hurt!" The fear on his face was killing her, specifically because she was the one causing it, but for some reason she couldn't stop herself. "_¿Entendés?_ Do you understand? C'mon. We're leaving." She bent over to grab their things when she saw Vladimir sit in the sand and start crying.

"I don't wanna go!" He yelled. "I wanna stay at the beach!"

"I said, we're leaving. _¡Apuráte! _Hurry up!"

"No!"

Vicky, ignoring the fact that he was crying, went to grab Vladimir's hand but he yanked his arm back, swatting her hand away. Angrily, she dropped their things once more and bent to pick up the child; difficult as it was while he threw his tantrum. With one arm firmly holding him close to her, Vicky struggled to throw everything onto the large open towel. She was finally able to awkwardly carry her nephew and their things back to the car, where he put up more of a fuss when she buckled him into his car seat.

"_Ya, calláte._ Now, be quiet." She scolded once more, though it did no good.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Vicky was sitting behind the wheel of her car, feeling calmer than she had when they had left the beach, but a hell of a lot more guilty. She turned the car off, and moved herself over to face the little boy who had apparently cried himself to sleep. Who was she to take out her frustration on him because of _her_ mistake?

It was disturbing, to say the least, the image of his peaceful face with red tear stains trailing down his fleshy light-brown skin. Vicky slowly reach back to wake him, but brought her hand back to her, deciding instead on getting out and waking him through close proximity. Vladimir's eyes opened slowly and he rubbed his runny nose when a snort came out as he tried to breath. Vicky smiled remorsefully, grabbing the bottom of her shirt to let him blow his nose.

"You awake buddy?" A gentle and soft voice asked.

Vladimir didn't respond, but looked at her as if to see what _she_ was going to do next. Like she needed the look to make her feel any more ashamed of herself.

"Look," Vicky took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn't have done that. I was wrong. But I was worried."

"Why?" He asked, looking more curious than anything now.

"Because I was scared that you might've been hurt or lost." Her voice explained slowly. "Do you understand?"

Vladimir's normally content gleam returned. "Yeah, you were scared I got lost so you got mad!" He answered happily.

"I wasn't really mad…" Vicky tried to correct.

"You sounded mad." Vladimir furrowed his eyebrows.

"I was,–" her voice trailed, through the inability to explain herself to the little boy. He wouldn't really understand why she would take it out on him when she was actually mad at herself. "Listen, let's just say I was really worried," Vicky bit her lip "–and sometimes grown ups sound mad when they're really, really worried."

"Ohhhh."

Silence intruded their conversation, but now there was a more agreeable air to it. Vicky felt remorse and anger at herself, but at least it was a little bit less than before and Vlad seemed to process nicely what she had told him.

"Whadaya say we go inside? I'll give you a nice bath and then we can do whatever you want." God, Vicky felt like she was trying to make peace with an emperor or something.

"Legos?" Vladimir asked excitedly.

"Yeah, sure. We can play with the Legos." She smiled, thinking to herself how quickly an innocent mind could forgive.

* * *

It had been a very long day. A very long day indeed. So when Vicky was positive little Vladimir was sound asleep, she made quick work to pour herself a glass of wine and grabbed her cigarettes. Having strayed from her battle with the cancer sticks, she figured today she deserved one for what she'd been through.

Vicky's hands slowly opened the glass doors that led to her porch, careful not to make a sound and wake Vladimir. It'd be really awkward for him to see her smoking, not an image she'd like to plant in his head.

It wasn't long before the dark and heavy smoke filled her lungs, making Vicky cough from unfamiliarity. A sign she was getting used to _not_ smoking perhaps? Whatever the case, she was happy to indulge this once. She brought the deep red liquid to her lips and closed her eyes, taking in the sounds of the mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood. Not the best, but it had definitely become her home these last four years.

Her eyes opened at the sound of a car beeping, loud speakers playing Héctor Lavoe's, _'El Cantante'–_not an uncommon sound in these parts–which trailed away with its' owner. More music filled the air, a mix of the many Latin beats, people laughing and yelling out to each other. Vicky had moved into a very lively neighborhood that, luckily, didn't mind how she would listen and observe but not participate in their joyous disposition. It was a nice way to relax, just listening and breathing.

In the street below her, Vicky saw a man whistling up to the apartment two doors down from hers, slicking back the long hair that only grew at the nape of his head and calling out the name of a woman. His lover. He was here to apologize for one thing or another, hoping to take her out to El Coquí, for jibaritos and beers. A walk in the immense park, to join a larger group where they would stay until 5 in the morning, dancing and just enjoying life.

Or at least, that was the image Vicky had made for them. For all she knew they were actually a pair of siblings in a feud over the lands left over by their deceased parents. He was here to demand his share of the inheritance, but she refused to give it to him because she knew he would sell the land and she refused to see their parent's legacy be bought and sold like a mere toy.

A self-soothing chuckle escaped past Vicky's lips, only to be followed by nicotine-infused-smoke making it's way inside her charred lungs. It wasn't exactly what she had envisioned for herself, but for everything that had happened, all those events she had tried to run away from... CYSO, Kong… Murdoc… Vicky took a deep breath, the alcohol seemingly bringing her back to a place she would rather not visit. For everything that she had experienced, this was a good life.

"_¡Oye, nena!_ Hey, girl!" A voice across the street caught Vicky's attention.

She smiled and waved, having gotten used to people staring at how obviously she people-watched. So it was no big deal when the crowd of people called out to her, not the first time it happened, wouldn't be the last.

The group that had called out to her began moving towards another part of the neighborhood, maybe to a party of some sort. To celebrate someone's birthday by getting completely shit-faced. Maybe they'd wake her tomorrow morning, singing in the streets in their still drunken stupor. As it turned out, it seemed as if they were forgetting a friend. Vicky's eyes stayed with the remaining stranger, whose face she couldn't see. Maybe he didn't want to party? Maybe he was waiting for someone else to show up to escort them to the festivities his friends were already leaving for.

Vicky exhaled slowly, letting the smoke build up in the darkness of the night, the white cloud swirling into a cornucopia of interesting shapes and designs. Though, when it cleared, through her peripheral vision, Vicky swore the man was staring at her. A quick double take and suddenly, she found herself staring at… someone with a mask. And how it terrified her, with it's glowing red orbs for eyes, and crow-like features. Like those masks doctor's used to use during the bubonic plague. But who the hell wears those things these days?

The covered face startled Vicky, forcing her to turn away, but when she felt confident enough to look back, he was gone. Poof. As if he disappeared into thin air.

Gone.

A cold shiver ran down Vicky's spine, her hairs stood at an end, and her breath hitched. Wasting no time, Vicky hurried into her apartment, making sure the glass doors were locked and pulling the large, heavy curtains closed.

Her head felt dizzy, she gripped the top of her head. Shit… Reminder to never buy that brand of wine again. Though it was probably the mix of wine and smoking a cigarette after not doing so in a long time. Yup, that was it. She was seeing things. Placing the dirty goblet into the sink, she'd wash it tomorrow, and she went to check on Vladimir. He was still sleeping, dreaming away without a care in the world. Vicky smiled, maybe she wasn't _that_ much of a screw up. Maybe she could do this, have the boy for two months and care for him like a mother would.

Vicky frowned and turned to her own bedroom, she had to stop doing that.

* * *

**Can anyone explain to me… WHAT IS GOING ON?!**

**tee-hee, I know, I know. It's an unfair question. I _know_ what's going on, but still, I'd like to know what _you_ think. Did anybody else enjoy that special appearance by our dear friend? I'm positive everyone reading this knows who I'm talking about. If not, well, you'll see soon enough I guess.**

**How's THAT for a second chapter? I quite like writing little snippets for Vicky. It really is like her life is made of particular occurrences during the daytime, but at night when she's alone, her mind is free.**

**But maybe she should lay off the booze…**

**Anyway, please review or shoot me a PM, I'd really 'ppreciate it!**


	3. Here Fishy, Fish, Fish!

**__****Titi-Vlad's nickname for Vicky. Pronounced tee-tee (or tea-tea), short for tía, meaning aunt in Spanish.**

**__****Amores-a pet name Vicky gave to Vlad. Pronounced ah-more-s (like the letter S). Means loves, or just love.**

* * *

If there's only one thing that her mind could discern right now, it was this:

kid's movies made her sob like a baby. At least this one did.

Vicky stared at the giant screen of the movie theater, a popcorn kernel hovering in front of her mouth, as the lovable toy characters were waiting to meet their doom at the bottom of a fiery pit. Upon his insistence, Vicky had agreed to bring Vladimir to watch the newest addition to the 'Toy Story' franchise; ironically, she was probably enjoying this more than he was.

"Titi, why are you crying?"

"Hm?" Vicky turned to look at the little voice to her right, before laughing and wiping her eyes. "Titi's being silly, _amor_."

Giggling when she disheveled his dark black curls, Vladimir turned back to the movie and stuffing his face with popcorn.

Vicky grabbed the neck of her shirt, its' absorption doing a much better job than her hands, when she heard the little boy's voice one again.

"Big girls don't cry, Titi." Vicky smiled, wiping her eyes to remove the salty tears.

Strangely enough, after having heard Vladimir's insightful words and feeling tranquil at their naïve wisdom, Vicky couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Crazy as it was, the room was full of people behind her, obviously one or two had to glance in her general direction and perhaps even stop to stare for a second or two. She, herself, was guilty of the deed. But this felt different to her, so she turned around, expecting to see someone staring intently at her, but she saw no one. It was too dark to really tell but Vicky made sure to strain her eyes, to no avail. Turning away the sensation, chalking it up to her own imagination, Vicky sat properly in her chair to enjoy the rest of the movie.

If she had glanced a little further into the dark theater corner, however, she would have noticed the who man tilted his head to the side, curiously, at the sight of the woman he was analyzing, and the child who always followed her.

* * *

"Have you ever had the feeling that someone was following you?"

Vicky's mom turned her overly-dyed light brown hair away from her hand of cards.

"¿Por qué preguntás?"

Vicky shrugged her shoulders. Why she asked her mom, she wasn't entirely sure; it's not like they had a terribly close relationship. Maybe she just wanted advice from a wiser individual?

"Just asking."

Beatriz looked back at the clean stack of cards on the table, flipping the top one over, analyzing it with her deck, then placing it face up on another, messier stack. "Just one time. When I had left the house, I didn't know your father taped a hair to the door, so I left and it snapped.–¿lo necesitás? You need it?" She nodded to the card she had just placed down.

Vicky rejected it before following the same card play as her mother.

"Bueno, I went to your tia Suyapa's house, I took the bus, we had lunch, regresé–I came back–and the whole time I kept thinking, _'__ay, éste sabe que me escapé.'__ 'He knows I left.'_ Para disimular, I cleaned the house, cooked, to make things look like normal. Then your father came home."

"¿Y qué pasó?" Vicky urged, ever so curious as to what her biological father could have done to her mother given the situation.

"¿Pos qué más? Él sabía y me dio una paleada. What else? He knew, so he beat the shit out of me." Beatriz answered casually, the topic having been something Vicky happened upon nearly 20 years ago.

When she was just a child of 9, Vicky became obsessed with the thought of reuniting with her father; a man she knew only by an old picture he had sent her once and the knowledge that he resided in Ecuador, that was it. And so she persisted, bothering her mother for information until she received the happy news that she would be traveling over 3,000 miles to the tropical metropolis of Guayaquil. Only then did she discover that her dreamed encounter would come at a heavy price. The man she had known little to nothing about was everything a machista should be; possessive, demanding, difficult and judgmental.

A month earlier than she had expected, and her dream trip barely half over, Vicky was gladly on a plane back to the open arms of her mother. Over hot chamomile tea, Beatriz calmly explained the reason she had never spoken of Vicky's father. He was a womanizer and a woman-beater, and she would never regret the moment she framed him for a drug crime he never committed–because it meant she could be free from him once and for all.

"But, how?" Vicky continued to interrogate, grabbing hold of the top of the deck.

"Creo que 'stas quedando sorda. I think you're going deaf. The hair he taped on the door broke and he saw it." Beatriz looked over the newly drawn card, a stoic look in her face hiding the satisfaction of finally pulling out the card she was waiting for. "¡Gané! ¡Lero, lero, candelero! Te toca hacer la cena. I won! Ha-ha! You have to make dinner."

"Ni te creas, don't even think about it." Vicky smirked. "I promised to take the baby to the aquarium."

"¿Ahorita? It's too late, loca."

"It's open 'til 6, and four hours is more than enough, ¿no crees? Don't you think?"

Beatriz shrugged, letting her only daughter make that choice. "Oye, why did you ask me that?"

It took a second for Vicky to make up her mind; she didn't want her mom to know that she constantly felt that no matter where she went, she was being followed.

"I was reading a book…" She lied easily, not an irregular occurrence.

"¿Entonces cuando van al acuario? So when are you leaving for the aquarium?

"As soon as Vlad wakes up."

Vicky's mother kept the conversation going, talking about one thing or another; Vicky wasn't really paying attention at that point, choosing to grasp onto her glass heart necklace instead. Her mind was more preoccupied with other things…

Mainly how every time she became aware of the feeling that eyes were trailing her, the image of the person with the red goggles popped into her head.

* * *

It was amazing how quickly Vladimir's short legs could run after something that peeked his interest. Admittedly, the huge white Beluga whale captivated Vicky with it's beauty, too. Her cheeks were hurting with how frequently Vladimir's reactions made her laugh or smile; she wrapped her light sweater around her tighter, the cold air of the aquarium starting to dig into her skin.

"Here fishy, fishy, fish!" Vladimir cried out happily, clapping his hands then pressing them, and his face, against the glass. He stared in awe as the mammal swam further away from him into the beyond of the clear blue water.

"It's pretty isn't it?" Vicky adjusted their bag on her shoulder. Either the boy didn't hear her or he really was too enthralled with the majestic beast, either way he simply responded by tapping against the thick glass.

A shrill happy shriek startled her. "It's coming back!" He laughed. "Look Titi!" He turned to her, ecstatic, and laughed. The high pitch hysterics made Vicky grimace and force a smile. She was happy if he was. Another happy squeal erupted from him as the beluga swam right in front of him again. "He did it twice!" Vladimir jumped up and down, laughing.

The white beluga, treaded right in front of Vicky, stopping itself to look at her. "Um…hello?" Vicky answered, not entirely sure what to do with the animal.

Suddenly the creature opened it's mouth, startling Vicky and making Vladimir cry out once more, in merriment. "He likes you!"

"Alright, alright. C'mon, let's go see something else." Vicky chuckled, internally teasing herself at being surprised by the aquatic animal.

"Where are we going now?" Vladimir grabbed her hand, eagerly anticipating the other animals of the Shedd Aquarium.

As fate would have it, they didn't have to make a decision because, as they passed, a huge alligator was drawn to the little boy. Vladimir stopped, staring intently at the reptile's cold eyes, albeit a bit nervously.

"Amores, you wanna go somewhere else?" Vicky tried to pry him away but her nephew shook his head in a negative response. Vicky sighed, the gator making _her_ edgy, but that's why they were in a giant tank right?

Slowly, Vladimir's face went from stunned to enthralled, his smile growing all the while and making Vicky feel a little less antsy.

"Lookit," Vicky caught her nephew's attention, continuing when he turned his head to her. "There's another one coming." Vicky bent down to the little boy's height, inching her fingers closer to his sides. "He's probably telling him there's food here." She stated, before tickling him. As his laughter casually died down, his eyes still wouldn't leave the lizard's. "Say hi, Vlad." She bid, curious as to his fascination and wondering why he wouldn't say anything. "What is it?"

"A alligator." He replied bluntly, still not turning away, even when the gator emitted a loud sound and caused the water to churn. It seemed a bit agitated.

"Wow, I wonder what it did to make that noise?" Vicky egged, that nervous feeling coming back a bit. But all Vladimir did was bend his little knees to watch the animal more carefully. Finally, it seemed the intrigue with the scaly alligator weakened, making Vicky feel better when she saw him smile and wave his in front of the alligator to try to get him to move.

"Hi," cried out his little 3-year-old voice. Once again Vicky let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. "Bye!" He cried out, following it as the large reptile swam away to some other part of his holding cell.

"Hey, why don't we get something to eat?" Vicky asked, now that the alligator was gone, maybe they could go see clown fish or something. Those cold, unblinking eyes gave her the heebie-jeebies.

* * *

They sat against the wall inside of the Shedd's bright rotunda, staring at the various, pleasantly swimming, marine animals; the blue lights giving off a nice aura to the room, which Vicky particularly liked. They were waiting for the last dive show of the day, a spectacular way of ending their pelagic trip. Though, through quiet observation, Vicky doubted Vladimir was going to enjoy the show; the poor thing was falling asleep!

Vicky smiled longingly, softly caressing the boy's soft black curls, lulling him further into a deep slumber.

"-found in the earth's waters." A sweetly feminine voice started speaking overhead, announcing the beginning of the Deep Reef show. "They offer us a glimpse of how they live, how they move and how they eat. So let's meet some of these animals!" She exclaimed enthusiastically, walking closer to where Vicky and Vladimir were sitting. "But first, everyone, let's wave to our diver Sarah! How are you today Sarah?"

"Hey! Hello everyone!" Came the breathy reply of the woman inside of the synthetic rubber suit.

"How's the water today?"

"Y'know the water's great. It's really comfortable for me…"

The small talk continued between the two exhibit hosts, the diver being the most entertaining of the duo. Her snarky remarks caused the majority of the people to giggle, at one point creating a full-out roar of laughter and applause.

The little boy in her arms began moving at the sudden commotion, and Vicky looked down to see just how awake the child was. He seemed to be bothered by the noise and insistent on sleeping, so Vicky readjusted him in hopes that he would return to his peaceful slumber while she finished watching the show.

"…Nickle went swimming along Florida's gulf coast. Suddenly, and unfortunately, she was struck by the propeller of a motorboat. And the injury was severe." Red lights came on to focus on the beautiful green sea turtle as scenes of the news coverage were shown on silent television screens above the tank. "In fact, you can still see the mark left by the propeller above the back of her shell near her tail. The result of her injuries is that her backside always floats up. Now, luckily of course, she was rescued and nurtured back to health. However, she will not be able to return to the wild, but she found a home here at Shedd aquarium."

The blonde host and her diving parter continued on speaking about this fish or that, most of which Vicky could only make out for a second before they swam away to another part of the tank.

One specifically caught her attention; a bright turquoise parrot fish with a dazzling blue top fin. Its' funny expression, as if it were smiling or laughing gleefully, held onto Vicky's gaze even when it swam to the opposite side of the tank, where Vicky could she wasn't the only mesmerized by the critter.

At that moment, her face paled.

As if nothing in the world was amiss, the man with the red goggles stood across from where Vicky had been sitting, clapping with gusto at the aquatic show.

This couldn't be considered a coincidence, or paranoia, anymore.

Swiftly as she could move, Vicky grabbed her heavy duffel bag, careful not to wake the sleeping child in her arms. But curiosity got the better of her and, before she realized, Vicky had made her way through the crowd to the same place she had seen him. Only, instead of finding her pursuer–her stalker more like it–all she found was a little boy sitting atop his father's broad shoulders…wearing underwater goggles…red.

Vicky took a deep comforting breath, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and hiking Vladimir up into a more stable grasp. Obviously, she was going to start seeing someone soon; even if it wasn't him, something was wrong, and it must've been with her.

In any case, it was time to go and so Vicky turned around, prepared to walk out of the old beaux arts architectural building, but instead froze. There he was again, not a mirage, not a water-distorted image, in plain sight, there he was not twenty feet away. A huge looming anthropomorphic figure–that thing couldn't possibly be human–wearing a tattered black cloak and the red goggles that terrorized Vicky's mind.

Before she had time to register her reaction, the _thing_ turned itself around, lifting his cape, went behind a pillar, and…disappeared.

Vicky stood there, shocked, scared and unwittingly moving with the crowd of people who were leaving the aquarium. She gripped onto Vladimir; it was all that she could do.

* * *

**Sorry for all of the Spanish! I tried to keep things natural but I really liked the idea that Vicky's mom had to flip-flop a lot; made sense especially with the background story. Which, by the way, did everyone like?**

**And the ball starts rolling! I'm not going to say anything else about the plot of this one.**

**Questions? Comments? Concerns?**

**Shoot me a review or send me a PM, I'll be happy to assist you! Thanks everyone, you're the best! :)**


	4. Here, Not There

**__****Titi-Vlad's nickname for Vicky. Pronounced tee-tee (or tea-tea), short for tía, meaning aunt in Spanish.**

_**'bebe'-**** pronounced beh-beh, like bed without the 'd'. Easy enough, means baby, nickname for Vladimir from Vicky.**_

* * *

Never before did Vicky believe she would end up in another situation where she found herself trapped, a prisoner. If it wasn't for the pleasant companionship of her darling nephew, or the fact that she had the liberty to do what she wanted in her home, the situation would have _too_ much like last time; for that, she was grateful.

The smell of cinnamon and apples guided Vicky back to the present moment, back from the memories of her time in England, in the not-forgotten Kong Studios. A flick of her wrist brought the temperature of the oatmeal down to a simmer, so it wouldn't lose all of it's viscosity: perfect for Vladimir. The boy was still asleep, it was barely 8 in the morning after all, and the only reason Vicky was up at all was because she really couldn't find the ability to sleep at ease; she envied his peaceful innocence.

Vicky hopped up onto the counter, close enough to the stove to watch it, but the slouch being much more comfortable on her tense shoulders. Grabbing the remote attached to the refrigerator, Vicky turned the channel to MTV, hoping they still had the early morning music videos before all of the normal crap took over. For once, the music channel didn't disappoint.

Her feet kicked the cabinets beneath them at the catchy beat of the song currently playing.

_It's too late to change your mind, you let laws be your guide…_

It wasn't a band she recognized, and it had no title or artist labeled at the end, but compared to everything else coming out these days, it was decent music. If she could remember the lyrics, she'd have to look it up later. The music tapered away, leaving a moment of silence for the MTV early morning logo, the break letting Vicky remember the oatmeal, which needed to be stirred. She heard the mindful, almost ghostly keyboard notes that introduced the new song. Vicky smiled, this had been one of her favorite bands since back in her grunge & punk days. Her smile grew, remembering how it had been a struggle to convince people she was classically-learned when, really, she looked like she just gone dumpster diving. How time flied.

_Does the pain weight out the price?_

_And you look for a place to hide,_

_Did someone break your heart inside?_

_You're in ruins…_

She turned up the volume, feeling herself relax– funny how music could have that effect. Humming along, Vicky removed the pot from the stove, ready to pour out the oatmeal when she heard her nephew sit at the table. She turned to face him and almost laughed at how worn-out he still looked; his hair was suffering a serious case of frizz and bedhead, there was drool at the side of his mouth, that same cheek was a bright red, and his eyes were more closed than they were open.

"Morning, _bebe_." Vicky hid her smile, proceeding with pouring out the contents of the pot into a bright red plastic bowl.

Eyes still closed, Vladimir responded with a wide smile and a raspy voice. "H-Hi." He cleared his throat.

"Hungry?" Vicky motioned to the oatmeal, her voice peacefully soft so as not to disturb the boy whose brain was still rousing. Finding that talking was too much of a task, the boy merely shook his head up and down in enthusiastic affirmation. She placed the bowl in front of him, when he suddenly got up and walked over to her cabinets. "What do you need?"

"Chocolate milk." He answered happily.

"Ah." Vicky looked at him, "What do you say?"

"Um…please!" Vladimir smiled, his sleep quickly fading away.

"Okie dokie artichokie."

The gallon of chocolate milk, which she only ever bought when her boy was staying over since she wasn't much of a milk drinker, was nearly half gone by now, meaning she would have to buy another one; that is, once things blew over. Vicky's hand reached for no mug in particular when she was stopped by her nephew.

"What?" She questioned, her hand midair, as she turned her head to face him.

"I want the zombie cup!" The boy's energy making a full presence. "uh, please!" He added quickly.

Vicky's right cheek turned up, and she made to grab the black mug he was apparently so fond of. It was a simple, "I _heart_ Zombies," mug– the heart was replaced with a picture of the decrepit organ. As she poured out the chocolate milk into the mug, she vaguely noted the new song playing on the television; finding it strangely familiar, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what about it she recognized or even why.

"Here ya go, sunshine."

With a bright smile, she placed the cup in front of her nephew when the feeling that her body gave out from under her came abruptly. She had to hold herself up with the table, as her head slowly turned itself to the side in confusion and attention. There was no way she could mistake those faces, and the familiarity of the music suddenly made sense to her now. There, on the screen, was none other than Murdoc effin' Niccals driving a sleek black car while itty, bitty, blue-haired 2D sat to his right and sang. The sudden discernible appearance of the two was a bit…unnerving, to say the least. Vicky wasn't prepared.

Without warning, the mechanical sound of helicopter rotors rang close by and not even her fear could keep her from giving in to inquiry and checking her windows.

"Titi, why do you like scary stuff?" Vladimir asked, having not noticed his aunt's change of attitude and breaking Vicky out of her temporary obsession with looking out of her windows, to the sky: all was clear, though she had been positive she heard them.

Vicky forced a smile, an attempt to maintain the artificial tranquility–so as not to scare the poor young thing–and let go of the glass pendant hanging around her neck. She hadn't realized she had grabbed it so tightly but now her hand was a bit stiff and she had to clench, then unclench it, just to get the feeling back. "Um… I dunno, _bebe_." She shrugged, taking one last look outside and seeing nothing but the other busy apartments and the tenants within.

"Is it 'cause you like the Joker?"

"Have you been snooping around my comic books again?" Her voice was teasing, although the answer was automatic as her attention was on her hand.

"No…" He answered defensively, though she knew better. "How come you like zombies?"

Vicky paused to think, biting her lip around semi-scared skin that gave the precise location of old piercings, after making sure her curtains were closed. Unfortunately for her, before she could answer him, she came across the thing that had been stalking them.

"Oh, fuck…"

* * *

Was there ever a more pleasant beverage on the face of this earth? Rum. The elixir of pirates, jazzy folk-types, Cubans. The stronger, the better! Murdoc just couldn't get enough of its' spicy, smooth, musky flavor. A wide grin spread across his face, casually, as he adjusted the deep red thong-like bathing suit he used for tanning.

"Ahhh," he smacked his lips in satisfaction, after taking another sip of his cool alcoholic refreshment. He should've done this, YEARS ago, if he had known all the benefits. His album had just let out, the singles were quckly rising to the top of the charts. And with all of the collaborators, his fan base should double-no, quadruple!-in no time at all. Money would rake in, and he'd be laughing at the top of a pile of millions on his own little island of crap, laughing at the world and how much half-witted everyone was. "This is, ah," he took a drink, "the life!"

Money? Coming in. Fame? Growing every day. Pirates? Hadn't seen a bloody one since he had officially moved to the island. Boogieman? Bollocks, that one had appeared, with a small crew, but had suddenly disappeared. Hopefully for good. It wasn't as if Murdoc would be able to pay him back anyway, and if the strange demon was as smart as he seemed, then he'd know going after Murdoc was a lost cause. Murdoc had played him good so ol' red eyes might as well give up. Technically, if he kept persisting, it'd be like trying to steal from Beelzebub anyway, so, it all worked out for Murdoc. And why did it work out this way? Because he, Murdoc Alphonce Niccals, was a fuckin' genius.

Murdoc cackled, taking in the sounds of rolling waves below him. The best part about this sodding island, is that it hadn't cost him more than a couple thousand. A hundred bucks to gather the plastic to cover the junk, a couple hundred more to build his new HQ, some more to build the rest of the structures around the island. The rest of his money went to rum, though it meant some things were left permanently under construction, but… who cared? Murdoc was king, king of the land of garbage, and his control was coming ba–

A surge of poppy techno made Murdoc jump. "What in the bleedin' hell is all this noise?!" He jumped from his outside recliner, spilling the contents of his plastic coconut all over his legs, making him even more upset. Quickly, he wiped the liquid off as best he could, before storming down to the room that belong to the one and only, Cyber-Noodle.

"Hey, Stooge!" He called out for the robot, stopping his feet in frustration now that the music had interrupted his Me-Time. No sooner had the lift landed in the Engine Room and his foot landed on the floor, that the android opened the door to 'her suite.' Actually it was a cupboard, off to the side of the electrical chamber.

She smiled widely, making a sideways peace-sign near her eye. For a second, you could almost have been fooled into believing it was the young teenage Japanese girl, but Murdoc wouldn't be deluded. His lip snarled, pointing to the room.

"In sweet Satan's name, shut that buggerin' racquet off! Why's it on? Shut it off! Shut, it, off!" He huffed, in an effective diva manner.

The android's face returned to her normal stoic look, registering what her master had ordered then smirked, drool almost pouring out of her mouth during the devilish grin. She motioned towards the room with her head.

"Wha'?" Murdoc, pushed her out of the way, throwing open the door. His foul mood instantly lifted, and he laughed at the sight inside of the closet-space. 2D was wrapped in all sort of chords, his muffled pleads barely heard over the roaring techno beat, a hand fastened by his hip while the other stuck up into the air. Truthfully, he looked scared out of his wits, making Murdoc laugh that much more. "Alright, alright," he wiped a happy tear from his eye, nearly poking himself with his long nail. "Take 'im back. Tha's enough." He patted the shorter, cynical, cyborg on her artificial hair.

Fun time was over, it was time to work. All this merriment with the little bot had reminded him, he had gotten rumor that Noodle might be alive. He couldn't be sure at this point, since he had originally believed her to be dead then stuck in Hell where he had tried to save her, but that turned out to be a binge-drinking hallucination. Or maybe it wasn't, who knew? Whatever it was, he might as well try looking for her now. It'd make him look good, and after the whole mishap with the shooting of 'El Mañana'… well, Murdoc could wager she'd be pretty pissed off.

Pulling a cigarette from the little pocket at the front of his skimpy swimsuit, he motioned for Cyber-Noodle to light it, which she did with the removal of her thumb. What a useful child. Things were sure looking up for Murdoc, his biggest problem was the boogieman. But he'd stayed away for some time now, no use ruining it by wondering why. "I'd rather have him be wherever than here" Murdoc stepped into the lift, scratching the cheek of his ass and poking his head through the door. "Oi faceache! Hurry an' get over here! We're goin' on an adventure." He smirked.

* * *

"Oooo," Vladimir's eyes widened, staring at his aunt in shock. "You can't say bad words, Titi." His voice droned.

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Vicky's eyes didn't leave the television screen. "Finish your oatmeal," came her monotone reply, her mind was stuck in disbelief. Somehow, it didn't surprise her that Red Goggles had seemingly been stalking the Gorillaz crew, Murdoc in particular, but what the devil did that have to do with her? Any trace of a relationship she had, had with either of them, romantic or not, had died…over four years ago.

The video ended, Murdoc and 2D in the sea, having escaped from the very thing chasing her.

"Titi, can I play with the Legos?"

"Yeah, yeah, go." Vicky turned off the TV, her nerves shocked and having more questions than ever.

Ok, ok. Try to think, if whatever was stalking her, had been chasing after the Gorillaz, there had to be some connection right? Vicky nodded to herself, walking to the balcony to light a half-smoked cigarette. She rubbed her hands over her eyes. Think! Murdoc had been chased by pirates, that's why she had been locked in Kong, then something about not paying them? This was ridiculous! Vicky was trying, but she couldn't find the connection. Why now? Why after all these years? What could she have, that connected Vicky with Murdoc, and had them both being chased?

Pirates, owing, Murdoc, payment…payment…Murdoc…

Didn't he say something about selling his soul?

Vicky's eyes widened, the cigarette nearly falling out of her mouth. That had to be it. The idea was a little far-fetched, but she couldn't think of any other reason. With any luck, she would be wrong, but as she re-entered the apartment, her gut told her she wasn't and it worried her.

Worried her all the way into Vladimir's make-shift room, where–when she entered–she nearly screamed at seeing Red Goggles standing in front of the window? That was impossible, they were on a third floor apartment. Not that she had time to worry about that. Her scream had scared appearance had scared Vladimir, who was now crying, and Vicky ran to grab him but when she looked up, Goggles was gone.

Just like last time, he had made himself very evident but had vanished before she could proceed beyond extreme anxiety. Vicky gripped onto Vladimir, holding him as tightly against her and she could, attempting to calm not only the child but herself as well. Her heart pounded and she closed her eyes tightly, wishing everything to go away, shushing the child as she did. He hadn't entered the room, didn't look like he was going to, but he was steadily getting closer. Vicky would have to be ready for anything.

Wiping the wet streaks from her face, she looked at Vladimir. "Are you ok, _beb__e_?" She sniffed.

"Uh-huh." Vladimir shook his head positively, rubbing his nose with his hand.

"You sure? You're not hurt?" Vicky tried looking him over, but stopped when the little boy shook his head from left to right. No.

"Titi, what happened?" The toddler looked up at his aunt, his light brown eyes searching his aunt's slightly darker ones. Vicky understood, he was frightened, confused, but he didn't know what had happened. He hadn't seen the man in his window. She was both happy and upset at the comprehension.

"Nothing, Titi just got," she bit the corner of her lip. "Titi got scared ok?"

Vladimir look down at his lap, sniffing back his tears. "I'm scared."

"No, _beb__e_." She cooed, trying to smile past her beating heart. "I'm here ok, nothing will happen to you while I'm here, ok?" The tot looked unsure, but nonetheless agreed. "Hey," Vicky gently raised his face to look at her. "It's been a busy day, what say you we take a nap? Huh? Wanna take a nap in Titi's bed?"

Vladimir bit his lip, similarly to how Vicky did, before agreeing and holding out his arms to be carried.

He was so young, so innocent at times, but he was smart, he knew when something was wrong. Vicky knew, though, it didn't take away from the fact that this small three-year-old would be depending on her, now more than ever. And she would protect him with the courage she couldn't find before. Red Eyes would be back, it was just a matter of time and Vicky knew he'd be back for the boy.

Lying on her large bed, Vicky lifted the thick comforter over her and Vladimir, hugging him tightly against her.

* * *

**I'm soooo sorry loves, for the long wait between updates! I had taken a holiday to Disney World. I never expected to be as preoccupied as I was, but well, Mickey makes a child out of all of us. The trip was wonderful but now it's time to work! I'm going to try to get another chapter up soon, before another semester starts. Luckily I have things all planned out, this one was a bit difficult since I knew what I wanted, but not how to approach it. But tada! Let me know what you think!**

**BTW, I hope nobody minds that I've been giving the Boogieman a different name: Red Goggles. I figured, Vicky didn't know who he was so she'd name him as best she could. Especially since I didn't want to keep saying, "the man stalking her," or "the man with the red goggles," it just seemed too redundant. So I changed it for now, but don't worry if it bothers you. It's only temporary, so the confusion will lift soon.**

**Reviews: Comments, Questions, Concerns, Flames, Help, I'll take it all! **

**Or you could PM me, y'know, whatever works. Tee-hee.**


	5. Broken Glass

_**'titi' **_**- pronounced tee-tee, or like tea-tea. Short for tia, which is Spanish for aunt. Nickname for Vicky from Vladimir.**

_**'bebe' - **_**pronounced beh-beh, like bed without the 'd'. Easy enough, means baby, nickname for Vladimir from Vicky.**

* * *

Vicky woke with the immense fear left over from her brutal nightmare; her heart rapidly palpitating against her chest, threatening to push her into a panic attack. With a hand over her chest, for her vision was still breaking out of the dream, she gripped tightly onto the glass pendant that hung between her clavicles. Her breath came out short and quick, her mind reeling with images of stretched unmoving fingers, blood, a silent whispering cry, until, finally...nothing.

Bile rose to her throat, caused by images that were sealed permanently into Vicky's sanity, but that hadn't been so vivid or grotesque in years.

Sweat poured from her face and hands, making her feel clammy and disgusting. An angry, almost desperate groan escaped her lips before she ran her hand over her face, getting up quickly from her bed to sit in her bathtub; she had discarded her clothes carelessly on the bathroom floor of her personal bathroom just seconds before she came into contact with cold acrylic. Her groan became a whimper, her whimper became a cry, and her cry soon turned into a dejected bawl.

Desperate to escape the cold she felt, both emotionally and physically, Vicky turned on the water, making sure it flowed as hot as she could stand. Her hands slowly drifted down into the water as her eyes stared into the rising liquid, any ugly images losing vividness against the glimmering of her tears filling the tub.

She sighed, counting down the seconds in her head. _'Six…Seven…Eight…' _The speed of her count gradually becoming sluggish as he heart continued to slow.

With the water nearing the brim, Vicky shut the faucet and looked to the small coconut-husk clock; a gift from her cousin, Lizzie.

_'3:15…_ _It's well past the middle of the day.'_

Six hours. That's about as long as she'd been sleeping. Six hours she'd shut herself off from her fears. As if sleep would solve all of her problems. She might as well be a zombie, but, then again, isn't everyone?

"_I want the zombie cup!" _cried out the tiny voice from within the recesses of her memory. Vicky turned her head towards the door. It was awfully quiet…

She should check on Vladimir.

* * *

Droplets rained downward into the bathtub full of water, a sound Vicky paid no mind to as she grabbed the old, colorful Salvadoran towel from her travels as a young high schooler. Making sure the large absorbent piece of cloth wouldn't suddenly fall from her body, Vicky opened the door leading to her room.

"_¡Vladimir!_" She called curiously, wiping off some of the water that dripped down her face. Hearing no response, she called out again. "Vladimir!_"_

High-speed footsteps pounded on the floor, scurrying in front of Vicky, light brown eyes shining brightly and staring up into deep chocolate ones. "Yeah?"

"You ok, _bebe_?" Vicky bowed down to pick him up and place him on the toilet lid. "What are you doing?"

"Playing." His feet swung alternatively on the porcelain bowl. "Titi, I'm hungry." Vladimir looked up from his feet to meet her eyes, just as his stomach growled, evidence to the statement and brining forth a pang of guilt in Vicky. Her solitary habits were interfering in the care she was _supposed_ to provide him.

She sighed in contempt with herself, but asked in as nice of a tone as she could, "um… How 'bout pizza?"

"Yeah!" Vladimir squealed in excitement, happy to eat his favorite food in the world–next to cookie and ice cream, of course.

"Alright, you go play and I'll call you when it's done, ok?"

"Ok, Titi." The little boy ran to hug her thigh, his head resting against the fluffy towel for a second, before scampering off to his room and leaving Vicky to herself.

Her skin was now drying, but one lonely drop fell through the thick locks of her hair and onto her shoulder, startling Vicky out of her musings. She sighed, gripping onto her curling hair and squeezing it above the carpet–not caring that it would get soaked–and shook her head.

* * *

When Vicky stepped out of her room, dressed in a comfortable black long sleeve off-shoulder shirt paired with some jeans, dressing after she had put in their late lunch–or was it early dinner?–in the oven, she stretched her back, earning a satisfactory pop.

BOOM!

Vicky was abruptly thrown back into her room, the smell of smoke and fire making her gag, along with the stress of the impact. Her head had crashed into the floor beneath her, safe thanks to the soft material used in the carpet. She made a face, an irritating ringing not wanting to leave her ear no matter how many times she played with her ear canal.

A cloud of smoke and, mostly, dust rose in her room before she was able to open her eyes, making her vision cloudy, though instinct helped her stand and find the door.

"What the hell?" She spoke finally, the impact having stunned her into silence. "Vladimir!" Her eyes widened in fear. The baby! "Vladimir!" She coughed out loud, trying to blow the dust away from her face, so she could see and breath.

The high-pitched scream of a child broke the thick, smoky barrier and, without thinking about it, Vicky propelled herself towards the living room she could barely make out. "_¡Vladimir!"_ She cried out in Spanish, the language flowing out naturally.

Quickly, Vicky began making her way to her nephew's room, coughing and waving away the smoke from directly in front of her. She hoped he was ok! Why wasn't he answering?!

"Ow, fuck!" Vicky hissed, having unexpectedly ran her shin into the corner of the coffee table just outside of Vladimir's room. "Fuck… Vladimir!" She yelled out again, the stinging pain halting her for a moment. She placed her hand on the corner of the wall above her, as leverage for her bent form, leaning to rub and soothe her leg.

Simultaneously, a whir and a shot was heard and before Vicky could process what the sounds were, she fell back, having lost her balance when a hot searing pain flew across the top of her hand. "Son of a bitch!" She screamed, holding her hand close to her person, glancing down only to confirm that, yes, there was indeed blood pouring from the wound. "Vladimir!" She yelled, desperate as fear began to run into her to find the boy who was not responding, but frozen as she saw a greyish green helicopter staring at her from right outside her porch window. All of the blinds had been destroyed or had fallen off. The man inside smiled manically, the look on his face telling Vicky he was about to shoot at her through his large helicopter firearms, though he was no more than twenty feet away from her.

Instinct taking over, Vicky's legs bounded into the child's room an instant before bullets flew through her living room, destroying anything and everything they touched.

"Vladimir!" Vicky screamed, looking around the surprisingly clean room. Was she hallucinating or something? She clearly heard the bullets just outside of the room, yet this one was untouched...

A whimper came from the closet, to which Vicky responded immediately, running and searching through clothes until she found the little boy huddled in fear. "_¿Estás bien? _Are you ok?" Vicky asked, looking him over and kissing him in hopes to comfort him.

"Titi, I'm scared." He mumbled, latching onto to Vicky upon seeing her.

"Shh," she rocked him, looking out to the demolished lounge. "_ya_, it's gonna be ok." Hugging him tightly against her, Vicky placed a kiss atop Vladimir's head. Was that him shaking, or was it her? Vicky looked at her had; it was her…

* * *

Vicky and Vladimir sat hidden in the closet for the better part of an hour, the boy's room still startlingly free of damage. She looked down, expecting the boy to have cried himself to sleep, but was surprised when he looked up at her in return; though his eyes were wet and full of fear.

The halt of the loud, exploding noise had brought both relief and fear now that Vicky didn't know what was going to happen. But she had to be brave, if not for her own life then for the life of the boy depending on her. Obviously, her home was no longer safe and, if she strained her ears, neither was the outside if the frantic screaming had anything to say about it–no pun intended.

Vicky looked out through the doorway, maybe if she was quick enough, she could get them outside and to safety. Vladimir must have sensed her slight apprehensive movement towards the door when he gripped tighter to Vicky's black shirt. She looked down.

"It's ok _bebe_, we'll be ok." She shushed, cradling him. "Stay here, ok?"

"No!" He hid his face into her shirt, his small arms wrapping themselves around Vicky's torso.

"Shhh... Look at me," Vicky grabbed his face, placing a kiss atop his head. "I'm not leaving you, ok? I just have to check that it's ok for us to go out there."  
"But why? It's scary out there. I don't wanna go." He cried, his lower lip trembling.

"I know, but if we go out there then we can get away from here, and call the police to help us. Ok? It's not safe here, understand?"

He didn't reply, but slowly released Vicky from his hold, his face displaying so much fear.

Vicky swallowed the lump of fear she herself was trying to hide and gave him another reassuring hug. She took a deep breath, urging herself to calm at the exhalation and closing her eyes as she did so.

Her face peeked out of the corner, hoping her peripheral vision would help her determine if and where the attackers were. With nothing turning up, she pushed herself farther into the living room, debris falling about everywhere and a high-pitched beeping coming from her kitchen–must have been her stove. The window to her balcony was completely shattered, glass strewn everywhere, feathers from her couches and pillows flew all about the place. Her home seemed as if it was a war zone!

At this point, Vicky didn't need to move any curtains to look at the outside–an appropriately gloomy afternoon apparently–and her visual scan found nothing outside. She stood quietly, closing here eyes and straining here ears, preferring them to pinpoint any type of nearby danger.

Vicky whipped her head back at the sound of feet crunching behind her, but instead of an intruder like she feared, she saw Vladimir standing just behind his door frame, biting his nails and looking to her for guidance. She sent him the sign to be silent and to stay there.

This was no time to dawdle, for the moment there seemed to be no trespassers–though danger was still afoot–and if they were going to get out of there, it had to be sooner rather than later, before they came back.

With one more reassuring look to Vladimir, Vicky dashed into her room, picking up the pink glass pendant from her nightstand and tying it around her neck quickly, feeling a bit more assured with it on. Making sure the ribbon wouldn't untie easily, Vicky returned to make her way to Vladimir's room but froze in shock to see a helicopter–it looked more like a jet plane–humming in front of her window. How she didn't hear it, Vicky didn't understand but shortly after she stepped foot in the living room, it started shooting. Vicky yelled out in pain, feeling a searing burn on her bicep.

"Ahh! Shit!" She yelled, falling to the ground to hide behind the television set. She had to get to Vladimir!

She stood up again, but every time she tried to move forward, the jet shot at her with more bullets, amazingly missing save for the graze on her arm and the deeper laceration on her leg. She was lying on the floor, trying to crawl without hurting herself further, but the pain in her leg was making movement awkward. If she tried going out into the open area, she'd definitely get shot.

Vicky swallowed the bile in her throat, tears threatening to spill in terror ad alarm. The realization that there was nothing she could do to save them came too late. There was another long blast, and the reverberating pirate jet turned 180 degrees.

From inside of his room Vladimir cried out, "Titi!"

His voice causing anguish within Vicky, she took advantage of the fact that the jet wasn't facing her anymore and ran to him; his protector. Out of her hiding spot she ran, ran like mad, feeling as if a mountain was rising up before her; if it wasn't for the adrenaline in her blood she wouldn't have had the energy. But when her feet maneuvered their way around her apartment and into the boy's room, she shrieked.

Just beyond the solitary window, Red Goggles quirked his head toward Vicky, as her scream had caught his attention. His hand pressed against the window pane.

Then there was silence…

For a split second, Vicky lost her auditory sensation as every movement slowed down. She turned to the closet, seeing Vladimir's arms already reaching out for her and, then, a black cloud engulfed her…

* * *

Marooned in his plastic paradise, Murdoc sat about grumbling in front of his computer and watching the Gorillaz backing band take the stage under his name, as they had been doing since early March. He should have been sound-checking with Bobby Womack in Camden yesterday! Not that he had the energy to do anything but snarl his green upper lip, having spent the previous night paddling in the murky waters of Plastic Beach.

Passports! Murdoc scoffed, wiping his face in annoyance. Oh sweet Satan, it was too much! How dare they deport him? HIM?! Murdoc Niccals! So he dropped the damn thing whilst being ejected from the USA by those fat LA coppers. He was Murdoc Niccals, king of rock and roll!

Murdoc groaned, exhaling deeply. "Oh sod it."

He had to admit, that motley crew masquerading as Gorillaz was doing an adequate job. But imagine how much better it would have been with HIM! Precisely by what factor his presence would have improved it...He dared say 666%!

"I migh' kill 'em off... I migh' just do it... No passport. Sent back to the Beach. I am a pain complete..."

Still. They were very good tonight, "despite my abstract interruptions." Bunch of stupid fucking twunts.

Murdoc stood, slamming shut him computer screen, feeling disgust at himself and the parody his band was becoming. Sure, money was good...But he still had a smidgen of pride in his music and now it was becoming a circus show. He walked to the lift, nearly tripping over the scrap floor of the entrance to his master suite. He rammed his finger into the third floor button, wanting to go up to his studio.

His hands clenched behind him, Murdoc released them for a brief second to press the button going to 2D's room; with any luck the sudden appearance of the lift would scare the mess out of the lanky scamp.

Ah, yes! Murdoc sat behind his desk, pressing the green button of the large orange remote, signaling for the curtains to close and the screen to come down.

"I've got my rum, my lucky lungs," he lit one as he said it, "a massive plasma screen." Murdoc stared at the various videos he could watch–past Gorillaz videos, new Gorillaz videos, an idea he had for when they began filming 'On Melancholy Hill'. He had everything he could want! "… Just no audience. CURSES!"

Bah. Murdoc put the screen away, reopening the broadcast of the "gorillaz" concert. And who the-?! What was this?!

"There seems to be a retired Admiral taking MY bass parts! All sort of grizzled and salty-looking! Who let him onstage?" Murdoc puffed away at his cigarette angrily, who were they to let some nobody play HIS parts!

"Oh wait…My mistake, it's Paul Simonon! I must say the beard does something for him–might consider a few whiskers myself…" Murdoc lit another cigarette, rubbing his chin after he took a drink of his rum. "And there's his pal Midshipman Mick Jones! Hello sailors!" Murdoc polished off him glass, pouring himself another. If he couldn't be an obnoxious drunk there, well that didn't stop him from being an obnoxious drunk!

"Oh those Syrians are good!" Murdoc smiled feeling the lovely warmth in his cheeks. The music, those musicians. They took Murdoc back to his time in Beirut, "-the Port Royal de nos jours!"

He sat lazily watching the band continue, imagining the times when he was surrounded by millions of fans, people waiting on him hand and foot. Murdoc's face nearly fell forward, as he was falling asleep and both of his hands were occupied with his choice narcotics. He shook his head to look at the screen again, only to frown. He thought that at least De La Soul might boycott these shows since he couldn't make it. The didn't. "TRAITORS!" He threw his glass at a remote corner, immediately sad at having wasted some of his rum.

But what else was Murdoc to do but wallow in his sadness and loneliness, talking to himself?

'Stylo' began, personally one of Murdoc's favorites. "Mos Def has a masters in lyrics dexterity! He's the professor of prolixity!" Murdoc sang, slightly oscillating himself in time with the song. Reaching for the glass that was no longer there, Murdoc shrugged, opening his bottom cabinet, which was conveniently filled with at least a dozen more glass vessels.

Then the glorious voice of the legend himself began belting out after the–no argument–angelic voice of Stuart. "BOBBY WOMACK IS GOD. Hang on, that's not right!" Murdoc downed his drink in one swig. "MURDOC IS GOD."

The band finished the concert with the single, taking a goodnight and prompting Murdoc to do the same.

"Oh well, I s'ppose tha' was another good gig gigged. Son of a bitch!"

The didn't play 'Broken' but Murdoc had spent so much time with it, writing the desolate lyrics that he couldn't help but begin singing the lyrics. "Broken. It's broken. Our love. Broken."

He sighed. Perhaps he would go throw stones at passing flotsam. Maybe he would begin on that search for Noodle he promised 2D they'd go on. Rumors kept coming in and out. Murdoc leaned back into his chair, a tingling sensation in his fingers, and imagined a time when he wasn't so alone.

"Bye bye. Bye. B-"

* * *

**Awww! Muds! Sorry y'all! I didn't mean to make things so depressing. Nor for the update to have take half a millenia. This chapter was a little tough for me to write. I'm happy with it as it is, but it took a lot of work to try to imagine things as they worked out and the way it would work out in the future. Yes, I'm trying to keep things much more connected than the prequel to this. But that's my problem.**

**HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?! Let me know! Send me a PM or a review! Personally, I prefer reviews but, again, that's just me.**

**Also, if you haven't noticed, I have a new profile picture! Everyone meet Murdoc, my baby Chinese Water Dragon. Isn't he the cutest? I know, he's the cutest to me because he's mine, but I stand by my statement.**

**If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I promise I'm a super fast responder to those and I _will_ answer them. Case in point:**

**DevilDog452–Here's the new chapter. It took a long time, but yes I'm writing more. And I plan to see this story through no matter how long it takes me!**


	6. So Far, So Close

_******Update: March 27, 2013. I will not be available to update chapters during the following 2-3 weeks at least, perhaps a month. I have recently had surgery, but after exactly a week I am at least well enough to tell everyone this. But I will be away for recovery. Sorry to everyone who is waiting diligently for the next chapter, I'll try to make it up to you somehow but please accept this small hiatus and my apologies.**_

_******~Hell's-FunnyHome**_

* * *

_**'titi' **_**- pronounced tee-tee, or like tea-tea. Short for tia, which is Spanish for aunt. Nickname for Vicky from Vladimir.**

_**'bebe' - **_**pronounced beh-beh, like bed without the 'd'. Easy enough, means baby, nickname for Vladimir from Vicky.**

* * *

"Stuart," a puff of smoke took flight from behind a grand leather seat. "Sit." Another waft of cigarette hovered in the air, above a deep, gravely voice.

With a scene, similar to that of the Godfather, 2D nervously looked around, hoping to find something to ease his anxiety. He had been called upon so suddenly, that it surprised him; when his confusion kept him from appearing, he was forcefully escorted by a pair of robotic arms. Said arms were currently busy holding up a rifle, whose shadow covered half of the robot's youthful face.

_'Noods…'_ 2D remembered solemnly, though this robotic face shared her characteristics, it would never have Noodle's demure charm.

"I said, 'SIT,' Faceache!" Murdoc spun his chair around quickly in a menacing approach, successfully startling 2D into the seat behind him but then losing control and spiraling Murdoc into the wall behind him. "Shit!" The aquarium vibrated, all fish inside swimming around in fear and confusion.

2D watched Murdoc grumbling under his breath, when he heard the cyborg giggling in the corner. So much like his little Japanese sister, yet so different.

"Shut it, yah golem!" Murdoc threw a pencil at her, which she easily dodged, retaining her smile. "Errrr," Murdoc snarled pensively, choosing to ignore her and focus on 2D instead. "Listen, I got some news 'bout Noodle. There was this whoooole charade on whether or not she was alive. YOU don' believe me," Murdoc pulled himself into his work desk, "oof!–but

our little piece of sushi was _supposed_ t' be restin' her weary hands until we were ready t' call on her talents again an' make a new album." Murdoc waved his hands about. "That was the deal but, uhuhuh, obviously, that didn't work out."

"Yeh, cuz she supposedly parachuted out, then yew said t'wos prolly cuz she was dead or in Hell or sumffink." 2D frowned.

"Yes, well, the bullets were supposed t' be plastic, an' I though' they were until they actually started, uh, _shooting _down the floating island. But, as the say, _shit_ happens, eh?" Murdoc grinned, then frowned when he got no positive response from 2D. He stuck out his tongue, childishly, before letting his jovial smile return to his face ten-fold. "Good news, Stuart!"  
"Could anyfing yew evah say be good?" 2D rolled his eyes, mumbling as he looked down.

Murdoc heard him, but chose to ignore the retort. "Yah see, two-dents, Noddle is our greatest asset. She's an outstandin' guitarist, she looks great, an' she's a brilliant song-writer."

"If yew though' she wos so great' why'd yew replace her then?" 2D glowered at the robot, but felt his glare run away when his stare did nothing; the bleedin' thing was creepy!

"Well, see, tha's the thing! I needed a Noodle, an' she was suddenly gone, so I wen' back to the place I'd last seen her: the scene of the, 'El Mañana' video, the crash site."

2D sighed, thinking of how helpless he felt seeing everything go down, and hearing everyone wonder and ask what had happened. How could he answer? He was as clueless as everyone else.

"However, there was nothing left." Murdoc couldn't help but remember the feeling of despair he too felt when he realized he had been too late to save his little girl. "I did what I could. I-I scraped up some of Noodle's DNA samples from the wreckage a-an' got t' work buildin' a cyborg version of her." Murdoc stopped to take a breath, looking up to see 2D staring at his twitching fingers. "It ain't the real Noodle," Murdoc signaled to android Noodle, who grinned and slobbered, like a wild animal while she listened to the conversation. "-obviously, but it, eh, it's close enough for jazz." Murdoc tried to laugh his melancholy feeling away. "She's my, uh, my own gun-slingin', guitar playin', body guard! She can shoot bullets right outta her mouth, y'know. What other band can stake clame to somethin' like that?" Murdoc was on the defensive over his decisions, a fact 2D picked up and could not help but prod at.

"A real one." He mumbled to himself again.

"Anyway," Murdoc frowned at 2D, wanting to move forward with this conversation without these silly feelings of guilt and nostalgia holding him back. "I've received news tha' Russ had this _bad,_ big break-down. Demons shooting out of his speakers."

2D was shocked to say the least, since when did Murdoc know this that he didn't even bother to let 2D know?

"I ge' tha' everyday, what's he complainin' about?" Murdoc continued, sipping on a lukewarm glass of rum he found on the floor. "An' he was living in Ike Turner's basement, which I thought was a euphemism for something else! Ack, my throat's gettin' very dry." Was he trying to badmouth Russell? It sure sounded like it to 2D, not that it would be strange for Murdoc anyway. "But, y'know, I've noticed this mysterious brown dome way, _way,_ off in the distance. An' it seems to be inching closer an' closer to the island." Murdoc dipped his finger in the stale rum, slowly whisking it around, tauntingly, as if he held a secret no one else knew about. "Chances of tha' dome turnin' out t' be Russell's big bald head is ridiculous-"

2D cut him off, understanding finally settling in. "Russ?!" This wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Where? Is 'e close?" 2D sped straight through the questions this new material created.

"Zip!" Murdoc imitated a mouth closing. 2D obeyed immediately, though it wasn't clear if it was from excitement or submissiveness. "I'm not finished." Murdoc knocked back his warm rum, grimacing at the musty flavor it had developed, taking the time to chose his words carefully and clear his throat again. "I've also got the funny feeling that we haven't heard the last of real Noodle." 2D desperately wanted to shout in joy, but chose silence in desre that some other good news would come. "Who knows how this'll all pan out?" He looked up at 2D, who was biting his lower lip, and smirked. "Now, I'm going t' set up for the filming of one more video."  
"What?! No!" 2D exploded, angry that Murdoc would chose celebrity over searching for their friends! Their…family.

"Quiet, dullard! Before I take any chance of a compromise back." Murdoc glared waiting for 2D to calm himself.

2D frowned, biting his lip to keep from speaking more, knowing that in the end he would have to do what Murdoc said anyway. If there was a small chance they could do something to find Russell or Noodle, he would take it; catch and all.

"Wot we doin' then?" 2D asked in a resentful defeat.

"So glad yah asked! I've called our collaborators, all of 'em. We're goin' t' be filmin' the video for, 'On Melancholy Hill', an' the main theme for it will be our search for th' real _Noodle_."

2D look straight at Murdoc, suspicion clear in his posture and tone. "Are we gunna, like, look for her f'real? Or are we gunna preten' for th' video?"

"Yah dolt, of course we're gonna look for her f'real! Yah can't fake that!"

"Really? Cuz yew've managed t' fake evrythin' else, yah ol' goff. Yew're jus' a fake person." 2D leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms, staring intently at Murdoc.

"Watch yehr words, faceache…" Murdoc glared back, before standing to open the shades. The moon light shone in, allowing some added illumination in the, otherwise, dark room. He stared out into the deep sea before him, the waves reflecting the moon, making it look like moving glass. He wanted to film a new video, but the truth was that Murdoc no longer wanted to be alone. On top of that, Murdoc could smell in the air that the peaceful period they had experienced these last couple of weeks was quickly coming to an end. "Go t' bed." He stated simply, his gut telling him that the following day would be full of surprise and anxiety. "We begin filming at day break."

* * *

Murdoc stood proud, above the sea and just a few dozen meters from the shores of Point Nemo. The search had turned up nothing, except the puréed remains of a school of superfast jellyfish. What an oxymoron. Anyway, the film was sure to be a success; Murdoc could feel it in his gut. All of the fans hoping against hope that Gorillaz would be fully reunited at last, the fan base of his collaborators only adding to his own, a full gathering of people willing to help Murdoc when he called for it.

His face remained unchanging as he stared out into the horizon, dramatically of course. Behind him stood the droid and Mr. Pot, who's slouching made him seem smaller than the bassist, no longer towering over him as he used to during their prime. It was a bit sad really…Oh well! Murdoc had more important things to worry about!

Like that stench that wafted in the air. Murdoc took a sniff, it wasn't the worst thing that he had ever smelled, but he could still admit that the stench was horrid. And with all these visitors around, how embarrassing...not. He didn't really care, but Murdoc felt obligated to at least determine where the stink came from. A brand new, faux gold telescope would help, one Murdoc conveniently had with him and, looking through the optical instrument, Murdoc confirmed that it was, in fact, the manatee that lived on top of a thin mesa. But wait…what?

Murdoc closed his left eye tightly, making sure all of his vision went to the eye looking through the spyglass. Yes, it was…it was…_'It's him!'_ The Boogieman! He was back, and enjoying the feel of the dead mammal's skin by the looks of it. Murdoc was taken aback, panic shooting through him as he thought of something to do, before turning to order the droid to shoot the dark entity.

"Do it quickly!" Murdoc pointed, knowing he couldn't kill it, but perhaps they could scare him away again.

Android-Noodle obediently followed the order, aiming her rifle and covering her upper lip with her lower teeth. Quickly, she pulled back the fore end, pushing the bullets from the tubular and shooting at the deviant. Two shots and two bullets that flew through the air, zipping through the sea air and straight into the trench coat of the Boogieman.

His red goggles looked down at the damage imposed on his garb, two giant gaping holes. His annoyance was clear by his body language rather than his face, for it was covered completely, and before SunMoonStars left, he forcefully grabbed onto the dead beast and pulled it toward him with, struggling; demon or not, he didn't have much upper body strength.

Murdoc saw him, and the deceased animal, crash into the ocean, disappearing in the depths of the water. Instead of relief, though, Murdoc knew this was a warning of sorts, letting him know that the Boogieman was back. Which also mean, the Black Cloud, those blasted pirates, would be returning soon as well.

Murdoc look up to his floating island, covered with dense fog, Cyborg Noodle lowered her weapon, and 2D stood confused and scared. The day had barely started and already it looked to be full of happening.

* * *

The black cloud that had engulfed Vicky relinquished its' hold on her in what felt like seconds. Her eyes flew open, a gasp of air made it's way past her lips and her hands immediately began searching for her nephew. She was surprised by the strong pair of arms that were wrapped around her and, looking at their owner, she founds a surprisingly scraggly man who, apart from his hold, paid no attention to her.

"Let me go!" She screamed, her eyes scanning for the small child while her body fought against him. All at once another tuft of dark smoke appeared, causing Vicky's blood to run cold. It was the very same person…thing she had seen multiple times in the past week. He quickly turned his head to look at her, his red goggles staring at her, then towards the pink piece of land Vicky was only now noticing.

"There he is!" yelled one of the many men that surrounded Vicky. Wait… Since when were they on a boat?

"Get 'im!"

"Shoot 'im down!"

"Yah dogs got yehr orders! Shoot at the target while he's still in plain sight!"

Vicky's attention was captured by the two figures standing on a rooftop of a swanky white building. It was too far to determine who or what they were, but it was obviously a man and a child, and the crew members of the boat were clearly after him, which meant, _"_Murdoc…" Vicky whispered to herself.

Red Goggles raised his hand, pointing to the edifice, and more specifically the man and soon, bullets began flying in all different directions.

Vicky screamed, afraid that a bullet might hurt her before she was able to find and help Vladimir. She was hurtled forward, rope being quickly spun around her hands, and a leash attached to prevent her escape. "Let me go! Vladimir!" She cried, desperate to find her nephew, to see him and make sure he was…oh, god…alive!

Rudders, high above, signaled that helicopters were being used as well, making for a full-on attack from land and sea. Vicky could scare contain her reaction upon hearing the bullets kissing the air and the water, objects falling into he ocean creating a loud explosion and causing water to fall splash onto Vicky.

The boat started moving closer to the island, making Vicky lose her footing and before she knew it she was on the ground, helpless despite her cries for liberty and her nephew. A calloused hand pulled her upwards, on her feet, and Vicky punched him as hard as he could. The pirate winced in pain, but it was nothing compared to what he was used to dealing with and so he held her firmly in place regardless of her aggressiveness.

At the moment, Vicky felt like a rabid animal, struggling to get lose and adding to the loud noises of war. There was so much noise and volume that, had it not been for the moment that Vicky paused to take a breath, she would have missed the crying of a young boy growing louder. Vicky whipped her head left, then right, then left again, not finding the source but know the voice could only belong to Vladimir. Her stomach dropped when she finally found him, he was tied in the arms of Red Goggles, who held him against his chest. The grip could've almost passed for endearing had it not been for the gaze he kept on Vicky, making a cold shiver run down her spine.

Red Goggles suddenly let the child drop towards the floor, where he disappeared before Vladimir hit the ground and Vicky yelled. Because now the boy was lost again, and because Goggles was striding towards her like a man with a purpose. A cold salty wind blew beneath the cape of the man with the Red Goggles, and soon Vicky saw that he was not but skin and bones underneath his tunic. Literally, he was a walking skeleton. Vicky understood real fear and panic, and as she saw him preparing to envelope her with his cape, she closed her eyes, hoping that whatever he did, was quick and painless for her sake and the sake of the child.

* * *

**Hey y'all! So how do you like it? I'm quite giddy about the aspect of Vicky finally being on the island and one step closer to…**

**DUN, DUN DUUUUUUUNNNN!**

**Murdoc Niccals!**

**It's been a long time for all of us, hasn't it? But guess what? She's finally there! And I'm oh so excited for what's coming next?**

**What, you say? You want to know what's next? Well…shame on you for trying to get me to spill my secrets.**

**No sireebob, my mouth is shut! You'll just have to wait, much in the same way that I'm waiting to actually write these chapters out rather than simply posting my idea notes as chapters. How dull…**

**Please! Read and Review! Tell me what you think! I'm getting electrified just thinking about it!**


	7. Bent and Broken

**The use of Spanish will now be limited to nicknames, or the occasional inquisitive remarks. "¿Que?" For example.**

* * *

A jet zoomed through the air, releasing all bullets contained, straight toward Murdoc's giant white bachelor pad, slash, HQ. From atop of the sky deck, he could see all of the damage that was being done to his private island: chunks of plastic land flew in the air, dust gathered every below, pieces of the white building fell to the ground in large chips–his experience with Kong's destruction being the only thing that had allowed him to prepare for an attack on his home–bullets and missals aimed straight at the old green target; this being himself of course.

Having almost made it to the safety of the inside, Murdoc paused at the sounds of a multitude of bullets trailing closer to him. His damn inquisitiveness did not allow him to just leave, as it would have a normal person, but instead to turn and see who was shooting and how close they were.

Panic set in. His widended in terror, his arms flew above his head, his body hunched down trying to make itself as small of a target as possible, all the while Murdoc's thoughts flew a mile a minute.

This new position caused Murdoc's sight to shift from the attacking aircraft to the ship a few meters away in the ocean. _'Fuckin' Boogieman, just waitin' t'–hold on?' _A double take was in order when he caught a glimpse of something strange on the large aquatic craft; his arm lifted slightly to get a better view of it and he squinted his eyes.

A woman?

A strangely familiar woman…

A strangely familiar woman about to be consumed by the Boogieman.

It took but a millisecond for Murdoc to process this, then yell out for the droid to shoot at the Boogieman once more, before diving back into his protected study below.

Landing rather ungracefully on his desk, he was almost immediately thrown backwards onto the floor when bullets smashed the whole frontal window panels, the impact shaking the entire fortress down to the room at the very tip of the gigantic junk pile: 2D's room. Murdoc lay there, taking in the vibrations of the building and staring at the air, which was filling with light detritus and flying debris, wondering about his life and just who that woman on the boat was.

One bullet shot close to Vicky, traveling through the air and barely missing her, shooting her cloaked assailant instead. He pulled his hand back, his cloak following suit, and whipped his head towards the island. Vicky swallowed the saliva that had built up in her mouth, her nerves still on edge but she allowed momentary relief to wash over her, knowing Red's plan didn't go over as…well, planned. Seconds later, a second bullet managed to graze Vicky in the shoulder, making her hiss at the sharp sting it caused. Unbeknownst to her, the bullet had freed Vicky from her confines when the shock of it drove Red Goggles let go of the rope holding her to him. The pulsating burn of the bullet made Vicky wince in pain again, a single trickle of blood surprising her. She stumbled back when she tried to cover the small wound but, not realizing how close to the edge she was, she lost her footing and fell back over the railing and into the bright blue ocean below.

Her scream bellowed out, never having been one for plummeting from such heights. She couldn't even stand roller coasters!

_'That's it! I'm dead!'_

Her body sped down, down, through the air, towards the glistening sea below her.

_'For sure, I die here!'_

Fighting against the wind, she pulled her hands against her chest, closing her eyes tight.

_'I couldn't save Vladimir! I'm sorry!'_

All at once, Vicky felt the heat of the impact against her back, her eyes flying open as well as her mouth, as it attempted to take in air. But all it was able to swallow was the extremely salted water of the Pacific ocean. The heat she had initially felt was replaced by the cold of the water, the temperature dropping as waves pulled her further into the depths.

Vicky's eyes stung from the salinity of the sea, so she closed them.

Water had travelled down her trachea and into her lungs, it halted her breath, so she stopped breathing.

A strong forced pulled her into the abyss, so she stopped struggling.

In less than a minute, Vicky had succumbed to her aquatic bed; darkness overtook her, just like before.

2D's terrorized expression grew further as he looked up when his living quarters began trembling. Dust fell from the ceiling, onto his bed and the floor; 2D stared at it for a few seconds, before attempting to remove the bits on his bed with the tip of his shoes.

A mass of bubbles formed in the water just outside his only window. It caught his attention right quick. Bubbles only ever meant one thing before: that sodding whale. 2D frowned for a second, angry at how easily he was intimidated, but it was soon exchanged by the worried presence of his teeth over his lower lip. He covered his face, the space between his fingers just wide enough for when him to look out of the window every few seconds.

"_Hmm, hmm, hmm…_" He began humming the first three bass notes of an all-too-familiar song. Ironically, music was perhaps the only escape 2D could find from his isolated prison, despite it being the reason he was dragged here in the first place. "_People are strange, when you're a stranger. Faces look ugly, when you're alone._"

2D took in a quivering breath, he couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't help himself, his mental health was just being pushed too far. He pulled up the legs of his trousers, to give him easier mobility, and pulled up the zip of his waistcoat. His comfort a bit more assured, 2D was able to then press his knees closer to his chest, separated by his head situated underneath his arms. This new position didn't allow him to breath any easier, but it could at least obstruct his vision a bit.

It was no use, his phobia of whales could only be relieved by the absence of all visual aquatic presence and, before he could take a closer look outside, 2D lowered his clown mask over his face, resumed his fetal position, and blocked out all sights.

And then, a thousand sounds at once: the crumpling, the breaking, the crushing, the snapping of glass, metal, plastic, and bone. A jet came crashing down, roof-first, into the ocean water; the body inside spilling out. Cyborg Noodle jumped into the air, her fist held up high in personal appraisal at having taken down the assaulting aircraft. She looked on into the water, mesmerized by the wreckage.

Yes, this was her purpose. Well, aside from being programmed to protect Gorillaz. And she knew she was meant to be a replacement for the older asian girl. Her musical skill was nothing to laugh at, but the android's passion ballooned in the presence of artillery. She was just so good at it! Even now, this very moment, was proof of her skill, as she saw the attacking numbers dwindle either because she brought down their crews by force or through fear of her; either way, she was getting rid of them instead of short circuiting. Cyborg didn't like short circuiting, it meant she had to be shut down and fixed, which in turn meant she'd lose a couple days without remembering what happened…plus all that static always messed up her hair…

Cyborg's steps were happy and growing, soon she was skipping along the beach. The skies were clearing, now all she had to do was get rid of any survivors that swam up from the water, and she'd be done. Murdoc would be happy!

She saw a pirate crawling towards the beach.

_BANG!_

She aimed for one swimming closer to the island.

_BANG!_

She found a pirate reaching up for her help. _'Or maybe,' _she thought, _'he really just wants to trick me, then steal my guns and shoot everyone here! That jerk!'_ Her anger flared. With her cheerful disposition now lost, Cyborg Noodle took her rifle, aimed it right at the man's head, and pulled the trigger.

_BANG!_

The collision of bullet against cranium created a small explosion of blood and facial tissue. His face was now unrecognizable, a golf-ball sized hole cut clear into where his cheekbone had been. Her mood lifted, seeing that the bullet had done it's job. Messy, but it had been successful. A smirk pulled on the sides of her mouth, upwards until she was grinning ear-to-ear.

A noise behind her alerted her to another presence. Swifter than the person could take another step, the android had spun around, pointing her gun at who she initially believed to be an intruder. But this was no intruder. Or intruders for that matter. A quick scan let the robot know that these people were the same ones that had helped her master with the music album. She retained her smirk, though her weapon was lowered. They continued to stare at her in fear and wonder, so she stared back.

Back and forth, back and forth, they looked at each other, the group feeling uncomfortable in the gaze while the robotic girl felt amused more than anything.

Amusement, that is, until she felt something hit her foot. Once more, her rifle was up and ready to shoot at this person, a woman, though she didn't look like any of the other pirates. But…better safe than sorry, right?

"Yo, dawg, dat don' look like no pirate t' me." The robot heard behind her. She paused, looking back, to hear what they thought of this trespasser. Her weapon remained in place, however.

"I dunno, man, could be a decoy or sumthin'."

"You think?"

"Well, why not?"

"Maybe she's da girl we're s'possed t' be helpin' Murdoc find!"

"Dude…She ain't asian…that ain't her…"

"Oh yeah…"

Cyborg rolled her eyes, they had better make a decision soon, before she made one for them. She might as well, but she didn't want to upset Murdoc by upsetting one of his friends. She'd get it for that. He'd shut her down again!

"She ain't much a threat now though, huh?"

"Naw…an' she ain't dressed like a pirate-"

"Maybe we should take her inside?"

Lowering her weapon, the automaton looked at the woman on the ground. Her clothes were all dark, like the pirates, but the style was too simple to really be determined if it was authentic assailant garb: dark jeans, made darker by the soaked water, and a large black shirt that came to her elbows, clinging to her torso, again, by the soaked water. No, hardly an assassin's attire.

Cyborg Noodle bent down, to take a closer look at the potentially drowned woman. She was still alive, there was a heartbeat though it was faint. The robot turned to see the group still discussing the fate of the woman at her feet. Well they had better make a decision quick, because this woman had obviously gotten water in her lungs and if they didn't get it out, she's soon suffocate when enough oxygen didn't pass to her blood stream.

* * *

A finger crawled over a dirty desk, followed by another until the two walked along the edge of the desk as if they were two legs of a person. A third finger soon joined, then a fourth, and a fifth, and when the nails scraped against the writing table but no attack came, a full hand pushed upwards. The body came soon after, eyes looking around at the destruction caused by the attack.

"Ffffffuck…" was all that came out of Murdoc's mouth, moving carefully towards the window, fear that pirates might still be roaming around. His relief was granted when he looked out to the skies to see nothing but the absence of clouds amongst the stretching blue. Murdoc looked down, moving the glass around with his foot, snarling at the realization that he'd have to send for the room to be cleaned. Because, bugger that if he had to clean it himself!

"CYBORG!" Murdoc's hands clenched at his sides, having bellowed out with all of his might. "GET YER ASS OVER HERE!"

Almost instantaneously, the bell of the lift rang loudly. Much quicker than Murdoc anticipated, though he didn't complain. However, instead of the little robot girl he was waiting for, Murdoc was surprised to find a small group of his his collaborators packed in the small space. Even more surprising was the woman in their arms. The same one from the boat? Murdoc frowned, walking closer to them and the woman.

"Hey Murdoc, this one didn't look like a pirate." Paul Simonon, that bloody bass-stealing genius, came in speaking before the crew.

"She ain't who ya lookin' for, though, righ' dawg?" Snoop chimed in, his eyes red and blazing. Obviously the attack hadn't deterred him from partaking in a bit of the burning of the green.

"No, no…she's, uh, not Noodle." Murdoc took a closer look at her face, the feeling of familiarity from earlier stronger now, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it exactly. In a way, it made Murdoc proud. He'd had so many women!

"Sooo," the group turned to look at each other, their questions obvious on their faces.

Suddenly, she began to cough quietly. Murdoc turned his head slightly, curious. Perhaps she was waking up? "Put her on the couch." He ordered, not even bothering to clear the sofa for them, just eager to get her talking.

Pos and Maseo, two-thirds of the De la Soul members, looked at each other, motioning for Dave, the last of the group, to settle down the lady.

Snoop Dogg scoffed, stopping the De La Soul crew, mumbling incoherences to himself and turning over the couch.

"Smart thinkin'." Paul observed, watching glass and plastic fall onto the floor.

"Could'a got hurt." Snoop shrugged, his eyes starting to close.

Murdoc watched them placed the woman on the sofa, but laying her down seemed to do no good. "Sit'er up!" He barked his orders, getting impatient with their fumbling.

"Yo," Snoop paused, trying to find his words, "fuckin' chill dawg. She was in the god-damn water." Finding he could not hold himself up much longer, Snoop Dogg found himself in the couch, giggling a bit how slow everything seemed to be going.

"Yes, yes, just put her in the sofa!" Murdoc crossed his bony arms, tapping his foot away in annoyance. It was about time everyone left, they were starting to get annoying!

Dave sat her up, Maseo stood behind her, holding back her shoulders until he was sure she could sit on her own. Her head bobbed forward, moving bit by bit, until she began coughing again.

"Dude…" Pos looked at the others in the room, not sure what he should be doing now.

"Hey you!" Murdoc startled everyone, moving to the woman to shake her awake. "Wake up!"  
The motion became erratic, as Murdoc continued to lose his patience and started taking his frustration of the day out on the black-outed woman. Her coughs grew this time, water pouring out of her mouth occasionally, until Murdoc was sure she had woken and he kneeled in front of her. After he saw she no longer coughed up anything of course. "Hey…hey!" Murdoc pushed her back and a grin broke out when he saw her eyes slowly flit open. "Yeah, that's right, wake up!" He nearly yelled in her ear.

She opened her eyes slightly, sand in her face making is so one was a bit wider than the other. Murdoc pushed her once more, about to tell her to wake up once again, when she grabbed onto his shoulder. Murdoc turned to look at her hand, surprise evident on everyones face.

Until she opened her mouth to vomit on him, that is.

Murdoc ran back, away from the woman who was releasing the contents of her stomach onto his floor. "In the name of sweet Sa-ack!" Murdoc growled, already covered in what he hoped was mostly salt water, saliva, and other suspicious looking chunks.

Everyone else in the room began laughing, at Murdoc, making his mood fouler.

"Da's fuckin' nasty…" Snoop added behind his laughing fit.

"Ugh! Do-Find-GAH!" Not being sure what to say or do with her, Murdoc stomped his foot and grabbed Snoop Dogg by the collar, lifting him to his feet and off the couch. The rapper had a good half foot over Murdoc, but was skinny enough and inclined enough to let the bassist lift him up. "Get out." Murdoc growled, pushing him towards those De la Soul traitors. "All of you, get out!"

They all obeyed with no argument, laughing on their way to the lift and away; Murdoc knew, he could hear them.

"Ugh, this is disgustin'." Murdoc looked at his new favorite white turtleneck. It was ruined now! Pieces of partially digested carrots clung to him, though it was less bothersome than the clumps of sand he could see, and feel already on his skin.

He looked at her, still not being able to shake the feeling of familiarity, but truly not recognizing her. She had ceased her vomiting and her coughing, and was resting against his sofa. Her breathing was much more normal.

Murdoc scoffed, he'd figure it out later. Right now he had to get this shirt off…maybe a bath.

* * *

**I lied! Inspiration hit me these last couple of nights, so I've been writing like crazy. My incisions hurt from being bent over the computer for so long, but you know what? SO worth it. Because I actually really like this chapter.**

**What do you think? Murdoc and Vicky have finally reunited, though she doesn't realize it and Murdoc apparently doesn't remember her, teehee. I actually thought about this quite a bit. I could make things easier, have him remember her and how much he had wanted her before. Then they could reignite their love and have lots of smexy time. But then I thought…y'know this is Murdoc we're talking about. Sure, he might've wanted her before, but that doesn't mean that she would necessarily spark something in him right away, despite everything that happened.**

**Vicky, though? Well, you'll just have to wait for that one.**

**Review, please! For the injured and ill?**


	8. Do You Believe in Destiny?

**The use of Spanish will now be limited to nicknames, or the occasional inquisitive remarks. "¿Que?" For example.**

**To that anonymous reviewer, I don't know if you're reading this but this chapter is dedicated to you! Because there was so much personal stuff going on with my life that I lost motivation for mostly everything. That following the lack of feedback I had gotten for my last chapter, I really felt nobody even cared anymore, so why should I? I was not in a happy place, and am still struggling with it now. But your wonderful words brought me so much happiness that I just HAD to start writing with my new-found inspiration. I hope you're happy with this, I really wanted to make this a good and long one.**

* * *

_White._

_Everything was white. The hallways stretched forever, sounds of wailing children echoing in the halls as Vicky hesitantly trudged through the cold, tile floor. Disinfecting odors penetrated the air, as our young heroin took a deep breath, surprised at the sob that followed. Her eyes began to water, the scene in front of her blurring into obscurity until she was suddenly standing in a new room, with nothing but a still body in front of her._

_Vicky walked over to the pregnant woman on the bed, her face covered by a bloody rag over a large, pale white sheet. Her hand reached out to the protruding belly, wanting to feel if the babe within was as still as its mother._

"_What are you doing?" A hand, belonging to a faceless man, gripped onto her wrist pulling her away and startling Vicky. "Can't you see that your germs will contaminate the baby?" He practically screamed._

_Vicky wanted to speak but suddenly, as the woman under the sheet began to scream in agony, so did Vicky. Her abdomen was in so much pain and, as Vicky reached down, she felt something sticky and warm. Vicky screamed, as if it was a competition between the birthing woman and herself, pain and confusion hurting them both._

"_V, you a'ight?" The familiar voice caught Vicky's attention; her cousin Lizzie in a nurse's outfit. "You shouldn't be here, it's not safe for the baby." She smiled gently, placing a hand on Vicky's shoulder._

_Vicky looked down, her eyes widening in horror. Baby? What baby? Her eyes scanned her abdomen, but she found no sign of a pregnant stomach. Was she losing it? Is that why she was bleeding? She looked up again, to her cousin, her eyes full of questions her voice would not ask. But her cousin was gone._

_Vicky howled, the pain in her stomach getting worse, blood coating the white gown she had on._

"_C'mon, sweetheart, just keep pushing! You're doing great!"  
Fire. Her lungs were on fire!_

_Vicky began panting, trying to breath through the pain and the fear, seeing her stomach growing with each huff of the artificially cleaned air._

_Her legs gave out, causing Vicky to fall on the floor, covering the tile with a pool of thick red. She looked up to her cousin, the nurse, begging for help but, again, her voice failed her and not but a sharp intake of air escaped her. Her belly continued to grow, the pain growing worse, and Vicky felt herself weaken._

"_One more push! Ready doctor?" The nurse happily exclaimed, wiping the covered face of laboring woman._

"_One big one, c'mon!" exclaimed the waiting doctor._

_One high pitched yell filled the room, created by two unifying voices, that of Vicky and the mystery woman._

_A baby was heard, softly at first, growing in volume until it rang above the cries of the two women._

"_It's a boy!" The nurse exclaimed, bending down in front of Vicky, who was still in shock, panting away. But this wasn't her cousin any longer, it was a stranger, face distorted as the doctors; unrecognizable. Vicky's eyes looked down at her feet, looking for the cause of her pain, and finding a struggling baby boy, purple and covered in plasma._

"_Congratulations Ms. Elizabeth! It's a girl!"_

_The name caught her attention and Vicky looked up to see the face of the woman post-labor, while her hands reached out for the baby on the ground._

"_No, no, no, no. Not for you. This is not your baby, Victoria." The nurse scolded, quickly retrieving and cleaning the crying infant._

_Vicky touched her head, confusion evident and still not able to create a comprehensive thought, she then reached out for the baby being taken away._

"_Now don't be silly Ms. Victoria. You know it is illegal to steal children in the state of Illinois." Vicky looked up to the doctor approaching her with a bundle in his arms. He bent down to her level, uncovering the child within, the one that belonged to the other woman, to show off a mass of dark black wisps. "Besides, why would you want her baby, when yours is so beautiful and perfect?" He smiled, handing over the small bundle._

_Vicky began to cry, still confused. This wasn't her child. She didn't give birth to this one, her was in the hands of the other woman! The baby in her arms began to cry, making Vicky look down._

"_Just take your nipple and gently lead his mouth, there, that's it! You're doing great!" The cheery instructions for the other woman._

_Maybe this baby was hungry? She tried to do the same, uncovering a brown breast and squeezing slightly until a droplet of milk came running down. Satisfied, Vicky took the same hand to uncover the crying baby in her arms but, as the cloth came lose, what she saw was not a newborn baby, but a cold porcelain figurine, whose eyes were wide open and hazel, but dull and lifeless._

_What was this?_

_Vicky looked up, looking for answers, but all she saw was the face of her cousin, Lizzie, lying in the hospital bed, breast feeing the cooing baby boy._

* * *

Vicky awoke with a pounding headache and a parched throat; it felt as if she'd dumped a truck of salt into her mouth, the taste was just that overwhelming.

The ceiling was a typical off-white, it being the only thing she could focus her tired eyes on, they too were in stinging pain. _'What happened?' _She rubbed her eyes, perhaps to remove a bit of sleep and help her eyes adjust to the lighting in the room. Gritty pebbles rolled across her face from the edge of where forehead met hair; no, it was sand.

"Ow…" She whispered to herself, the pounding not ceasing. "Fuck…"

She slowly sat herself forward onto the edge of the bed, gently bending her hair over the floor and, using her hands, shaking until she could see no more sand. "What?…"

She stared at the floor, her brain taking especially long to recollect herself, but seeing this brought nothing to mind, she looked up to see giant windows overlooking a crystalline ocean and pale blue skies. Vicky's eye's widened in recognition.

* * *

His viddies, how he loved his viddies! Murdoc smirked, staring into three out of his many screens, as he kept watch over his plastic kingdom.

There was the one in 2D's room, that was placed right where the door faced the singer's bed; to alert Murdoc if Stuart ever grew the balls to overcome his fear and walk out while being watching by the whale. He laughed a hearty chuckle, there was no way! To think, he had the lanky man in the palm of his hand and all it took was a soddin' whale! Of course, Murdoc would never tell how he bribed the whale, just that he made it worth its while. If her ever told, Murdoc's babysitter would probably be gone for good, then who'd sing for him?!

Murdoc licked his lips, mildly annoyed at his thoughts. Having no one else to talk to, even Murdoc got lonely; it was why he had shipped everyone onto the PB, but nobody could really fill that loneliness; he couldn't stand it. His eyes glanced over to the screen facing the robot.

Ah, yes! The robot! Well, there wasn't much to tell there, really. She'd done her job, but had done it through some miracle because Satan knows how much she'd been malfunctioning lately. Murdoc wanted to blame it on Bruce Willis dry-by shooting - WHICH HE STILL DIDN'T UNDERSTAND BY THE WAY! – but even before then, the android had been having issues. Now? She was looked away in her closet, hooked up to various machines, that would hopefully fix her. It was like robot hospital, except in reality all it did was pump her full of oil, currents of electricity, and Noodle's DNA.

Murdoc burped, scratching his chin in the process. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn't change her all that much, if she even came back to defend his plastic castle. He would have to be careful with how she was acting, nothing too disappointing yet, just unpredictable; like yesterday, how she brought that woman in.

Eyes squinting in suspicion, Murdoc glanced over to the woman sleeping on his bed. She looked in pain, possibly whimpering, though Murdoc couldn't hear. Somehow, watching her like this gave him a sense of deja vú. He knew her, somehow, but then again, Murdoc knew a lot of people and he didn't bother with remembering their names half the time, unless it somehow benefited him.

He was thrown back into his seat when he saw the fit this woman began throwing in his room. Mildly amused at the way she lost control and hurling the boudoir into chaos, Murdoc decided it was time to interrupt her drastic mood swing when he saw her begin to throw things at his window; he had enough glass lying around, without some ninny breaking more! He quickly ran to the lift, yelling in frustration at its leisurely pace and almost breaking his forefinger with the force he pressed the button.

"Stop! Stop, stop!" He yelled to no one in particular; he couldn't see her now! "Stooooooop!" He yelled, running past the lift doors and into his room. Her whole body turned to him, hands gripping firmly onto the heavy clay vase she was just about to smash into the window.

"You…" She hissed menacingly, her eyes narrowing in anger.

"Stop! Stop! Put it down!" Murdoc stomped over to her, pushing her out of the way as he tried to remove the plant from her hold. "Let go!" He growled, "that's a very expensive, very RARE, breed of Anthurium!" He smacked her hand, surprising the woman who pulled her hand back. Murdoc carefully set the pot down, turning angrily to the woman who had her hands clenched in fists of rage, her face pursed and tears starting to drip down her face. "Now, _who _the _hell_ are _you?_" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She didn't speak, busy breathing and busy clenching, and unclenching, her hands. Murdoc observed her, she seemed much more familiar now that he was up close to her. Still couldn't place her though.

"Who am I?" She hissed, her voice dangerously low. Looking up she bit her bottom lip, taking in the man who had changed her life dramatically since the moment she first met him. He looked the same, though much older than they had last met. His skin was a lot greener, and his eyes were red and puffy. He was in need of a good shave, as his looked half-assed, and he looked both wider and thinner. Yet he was demanding who _she_ was? Vicky chuckled dryly, stepping closer as the confusion in his face became evident. She had no time for games, Vicky had to get Vladimir back…Still, first things first.

"Ow!" Murdoc whined, thrusting his shoulder back away from the woman who had smacked him. "What was tha-" His question was cutoff when she smacked him again on his other shoulder. "The hell-" Again, she hit him, smacking his chest and, before Murdoc could get a word to defend himself, he was being pushed against the wall by her various strikes.

Vicky smacked him hard against his cheek, leaving a red mark on his face, but her anger and frustration pushed her to keep beating him. He grabbed her wrists tightly, as he yelled at her though she didn't hear it, and she found herself trying to kick him instead. Murdoc maneuvered her around the room, and as her feet kept her balance, she tried biting him, satisfied when she heard a loud yell. She thrashed against him, trying to inflict upon him the damage she felt inside, but her shock was broken when she felt the bed press against her back. Vicky's eyes widened in astonishment, everything had happened so fast and now she stared up at Murdoc with a face of pure hate. She panted, adrenaline coursing through her system, and she attempted to move again, get away from his peering eyes. An unexpected relief crashed into her when realization came suddenly into his eyes and he said just one thing, "Queenie?"


	9. Feelin' Odd

**So, this is embarrassingly over d****ue…**

* * *

Vicky kept her gaze fixed on Murdoc's confused one, feeling increasingly worried. '_Is he going to help me or not?'_ Murdoc had questioned the reason behind her breakdown as soon as he recognized her face and got his answer, but it wasn't the one he was expecting. Truthfully, it had come out as a misunderstanding, but one Vicky had not corrected.

* * *

"_You might not care, but that thing––whatever the fuck it is––has Vladimir, goddamn it and you're going to help me get my little boy back!" _

"_Yah have a son?"_

* * *

Vicky had fallen silent, uncertain of what to tell him. She_ knew_ she couldn't outright lie; no, she had no son. But what Vicky _did_ know was that she needed Murdoc to help her and, weighing her options, she had to find the correct response to make sure that Murdoc _would_ help her. Then again, there was more to it than that; a feeling inside of Vicky that told her it was ok to say Vladimir was her son. In the end, her mouth had formed the words before she could take them back.

Murdoc processed the information, eyeing the woman sitting on his bed. "Didn't know yah had it in yah." He glanced down at Vicky, who was clearly choosing her words before speaking. Finally, the woman shook her head.

"Look, I don't have time for any of your shit, and I don't know what in the devil is going on here, Murdoc, but I've been stalked, abducted, and I know you're the reason behind it. So you're going to get my _son_ back," Vicky snapped. "Now. Or I'm turning you into them myself. Got that?"

Now Murdoc felt patronized. '_Who the hell does she think she is? I didn't drag her out here!'_

"And why _should_ I help yah? I have enough problems without havin' to rescue yehr kid as it is." Murdoc ran a finger across one of the many cardboard boxes in his room, speaking as smoothly as if her were trying to seduce her.

"You _will _rescue him," Vicky countered, her voice losing no edge. "He's the most important thing to me, and _you_ owe me."

_'Is this some kind of joke?' _Murdoc immediately knew what she was referring to, of course; though it had taken him a while to recognize her face, the history they shared was something that came crashing into his rum-boggled mind, and, remembering her as he did, Vicky would always find a way to push away her blame. Murdoc's quick thinking in Two Dents' room had made sure she had suffered when she refused to acknowledge their amorous romp. But what Murdoc had seen during his whole ordeal with the pirates had changed his impressions forever on the, important, responsibilities that people owned up to.

"Owe ya? For what," Murdoc now said, resting a hand on his hip as he talked to Vicky, "givin' yah a good shag? Ruining yer amour with 2D? It takes two to tango, luv." He mocked, gazing down at her increasingly angry face.

His choice of words, and the blatant honesty, set off Vicky more than she would like to admit. She had hoped they would be able to come to some sort of agreement without having to bring up the past. Granted, her own comments weren't all that delicate either.

As Vicky stood up straight, she saw her own reflection in the window and could tell how badly her hair and face were mangled. However, her appearance was the last thing on her mind. They were obviously off to a bad start and Vicky could already see herself having to formulate a plan to rescue her nephew on her own. She could think of nothing else.

A pattering of light rain drummed on the window, and Vicky quickly composed herself, seeing this conversation as useless and time-consuming. She was about to step out of the room, her emotions just barely under control, when she heard his voice once more.

"Hey! Yah can't jus' leave! Yeh'll attract the pirates!"

She gave him a once over and inhaled deeply, ignoring the sense of déjà vu she felt upon hearing his words. Then she tucked her frizzed hair behind her ears as best she could and settled in to walk out the door before he could say anything else.

* * *

The buttons on the elevator were a bit confusing to Vicky, who felt proud of herself for not overreacting as she thought she might; at least at the end. The moment Murdoc recognized her, it was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders and, for a second, Vicky allowed herself to believe she could solve her problem with the help of someone else.

That was not how the situation had ended.

She saw the button leading to the entrance, as well as some other places, but emotions continued to dictate her decisions. Before she knew it, Vicky was on her way down to 2D's bedroom. Normally, Vicky would have taken a full minute to admire her surroundings and get acquainted with a new environment, but with desperation and bewilderment in her system, Vicky stepped out towards the center of the room, scanning the entire space.

It took only a moment for her presence to be known in the confines of the small room. The familiar high-pitched accent called out, "VV? Wha' ah' yew' doin' 'ere?"

"D?" Vicky said with relief when she finally saw the eccentric blue hair of her former lover's head before her; she felt as if an emotional floodgate had burst. All of the fear and confusion she had bottled up in the past weeks, and especially since her arrival, came pouring through.

It was that man, hidden among the shadows and blankets, whom Vicky felt relieved to see. The feeling was apparently mutual. Stuart Pot's eyes filled with delight as she rushed through the doorway…directly into his arms. As Vicky lost herself in the comforting embrace of an old friend, Stu closed his arms around her. She felt his grip pull her closer to his warm, thin body, and at last she felt safe. Tears came unexpectedly, but she fought them back.

2D held her. "It's awrigh'," he whispered. "Yer okay."

Vicky wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything, but she could barely breathe. "I'm sorry," was all she mustered, over and over again; apologizing for the events that happened years ago.

"Tha's awrigh' luv. Was a long time ago." Stuart's unusually deep voice resonated against her chest, comforting her somehow. He shrugged, noticing her gently shaking shoulders. "Why yew cryin'?"

"Oh D…" Vicky wanted to yell, but felt strangely fatigued. "He's just a little boy and they have him! I don't even know why, but they've been after us for weeks." She looked at him.

"Boy?" 2D was surprised, her musings bringing him to the same conclusion Murdoc had just moments ago. "Yew 'ave a babe? Tha's great." He smiled, hopeful it could relax her enough to explain further.

"He's amazing!" She enthused, not bothering to hesitate or question herself this time. "But I don't get why they took us. What's goin' on, D? Where are we?"

"Murdoc…Well, y'know how he had tha' whole deal wif th' pirates 'n' that's why we had t' leave?" His voice was soft and refined, filled with pain. "So now 'e, like, got 'isself into sum typ'a war wif'em, right? 'n then he escaped to Plastic Beach, t' this giant 'eap of trash, hopin' they would'n' find 'im." There was a pained pause. "Tha' old sod got 'isself a coupl'a new songs, kidnapped me 'n' sum ovvah artists so he could, like, make a new album an' now here we are."

"Does he _not _know boundaries? God, that man needs to learn respect!" Vicky replied, hotly now.

"Yeh, 'n' it ge's worse. See, things were awrigh', though he kept me locked in this 'ere' room wif a bleedin' guard whale for company, n 'yew kno' 'ow much ah hate whales!" Stuart shouted, pointing at the round opening that was his sole window. "Things were awrigh', least 'til they star'ed shootin'. Murdoc's tried t' keep 'em at bay, but in th' end, 's jus' one man an' a cyborg, against a whole fleet of fuckin' pirates, innit? Don't know much else, tho'. Ah keep t' me room mostly."

Vicky had apparently heard all she needed to hear. She nodded her head, eyes focused on the ground, and voice not speaking. Watching her and waiting for some sort of reaction, 2D didn't know what to do once she started crying again. He got nervous, his voice rising dramatically in pitch. "Eh. D-Don' go on cryin', VV!" This only caused her to sob harder against his chest, and to dig her fingers into his shirt. "'s gonna be awrigh', we'll ge' yer son back, yew'll see!" A wide smile took over Stuart Pot's face, remembering how much she had enjoyed it before.

But his goofy grin would not distract her this time, it _couldn't. _Not when Vicky had gotten more insight on what Vladimir's situation could be. A memory of herself hiding behind a battered wall, hoping she would escape with her life, entered her and filled her with fear. Vicky knew what these pirates were capable of and their lack of mercy produced only bile and fear in Vicky's system. She had to save him, even if it meant losing her own life. Vicky could let no harm come to the child.

There it was again; that motherly instinct that came so naturally. And it felt nice, to hear him be called _hers_. Since the moment that Vladimir was born, since the moment she first saw him wrapped in his hospital blanket, crying, she knew she would love him unconditionally, despite everything.

* * *

Murdoc Niccals was sitting in the Secret Room of his Study when she walked in, curiously looking around. He watched her flinch at his octopus, which provided his writing ink, and poke at it; grinning at her inquisitiveness. He saw her glance at the portraits on his wall, lined with all the _Plastic Beach_ contributors, and glance at his fish tank; again, flinching at the talking piranha that asked her for Flam. He watched her, as was in his nature to do so, until she looked out of his, miraculously fixed, glass window panes. She was a sight to behold, a gracious distraction, but also a center of confusion for Murdoc. What was she doing here? He still didn't know. She was after her son, which he was genuinely surprised at hearing about, and she was brought over by SunMoonStars. That was about all Murdoc knew for sure.

It was when Murdoc saw her leave that he wanted to follow her. Physically follow her, mind you, not just watch her through his monitors.

She was aware of his presence, he knew, but was trying to pass off a cool façade, one she couldn't carry out properly and one Murdoc found amusing. It was all in her hands, the way they would clench or unclench and the way she would toy with her fingertips. And her lips, devoid of the piercings Murdoc was sure were once placed at the exact spot she was nibbling on. Her face seemed cold, but her hands and quivering lips told Murdoc she was as passionate as ever.

"Ya look…er…grown up…" Murdoc started, looking her outfit up and down. She hadn't changed clothing, obviously, but Murdoc couldn't help but make the distinctions between the woman he knew and the woman standing before him. Where before he could remember combat boots that professed her unconformity, ripped black jeans that showed off shapely thighs and a round ass, cut-off shirts giving him a glimpse of her smooth caramel skin, and––that which made the most impression––a wild mane; now… Her softened make up, most of which had washed away with the currents of the sea, shorter and controlled hair she had attempted to pull back, and much more feminine boots, took Murdoc a bit by surprise. He didn't usually bother with remember a woman's fashion sense, but she seemed much more mature and…delicate… A surprise indeed, though not a bad one.

A puddle nearby was the first thing Vicky's eyes glanced at upon hearing Murdoc's words. Except, she took it as him calling her old. She couldn't help it if she'd just gone through hell and back in the last week. For the second time, she focused on her physical appearance, only this time Murdoc's critique stayed with her.

"Yeah? Well, so do you." Vicky snapped, a bit irritated that he was looking at her at all given the circumstances.

"Motherhood." Murdoc stated plainly, almost inquisitively. Vicky took a second to think about it, unsure of how she was going to play off the statement, but a nod was all the response Murdoc needed. "I guess raisin' a brat would do that to a woman." Murdoc scoffed, rolling his eyes until a punt of sand hit him in the face. "OW!" Shaking his head, Murdoc attempted to remove the gritty substance from his dull hair.

"Watch yourself, Niccals." A snarl escaped Vicky's lips. "Offend me all you want, not that I'll let it slide, but mention Vlad inappropriately and you're gonna wish you were never born!"

Murdoc smirked, her defensive nature making obvious her attractive temper. Yes, now he saw it. She might be some years older, she might wear different clothes, but ol' Queenie was the same rambunctious chica he had met all those years ago. The one he had _bedded_ all those years ago. Chuckling, he held up his hands, as if to protect himself from her rage, saying, "hey, hey now. No need to get violent, uhuhuhuh…" A mischievous glimmer caught his eyes. "Unless it's in bed, uhuhuhuhahahahaha!" Murdoc guffawed at his own joke, but flinched back when she moved to throw more debris at him. "A joke! It's a joke! Kids, eh? I love 'em!" Murdoc laughed, watching her relax. He _was_ going to leave it at that but his good nature would still not comply. She was too much fun! "Couldn't eat a whole one though!" Murdoc cackled as he was pushed back into the plastic covered junk pile, his laughter not dying out until he saw her legs move past his head. "Oh relax! All that anger will only make you look older, Queenie!" He shouted out at Vicky continued to walk away, but she paid him no mind and proceeded to stomp to another part of his plastic paradise. His laughter lowered to a chuckle, his sights on a more pleasurable behind, when she turned around, face red and irate.

"Don't call me 'Queenie'!" She huffed, bounding away and leaving Murdoc on the ground.

Murdoc Niccals smiled. Actually _smiled._ His head was leaning on a hardened tire, there a something poking into his calf, his back was resting on an amalgamation of plastic garbage, not to mention the sand he was currently embedding into his clothes and hair. It was all rather uncomfortable, really, but he smiled. The sounds of seagulls and the smell of salt water more gratifying than it had been for months! The added company was making a drastic improvement on his mood.

* * *

**Once again, thank you to my anonymous reviewer! I thanked you on my Tumblr blog a while back, but I hadn't gotten around to finishing the last part of my story, which is why I'm not posting it until now. I wanted Vicky to get a sense of the Gorillaz new (as of Phase three) HQ, which is why she's been kind of wandering about. On top of this, I imagined that in a situation such as hers, she's feeling lost on so many levels that the only thing she really _can_ do is just wander until a solution pops into her head or hands.**

**Again, I'm sooooo SORRY for the delay of this chapter, I know at least one of you was waiting patiently for it. For you I'm so grateful. I may not have your username but, whoever you are, I LOVE YOU! Seriously, some savage lovin' comin' yehr way, uhuhuhu. ––No! Bad Murdoc! Bad! Sorry bout that.**

**But for realz now dawgz, I'm happy to hear from you all so please leave me a PM or a nice little review so that I can see people are still interested in my story.**

***Also, if you're a Walking Dead fan, please check out my Daryl/OC story, if you're into that sort of thing. It's been my pride lately.**


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